The Pastor's Son
by Phoenixhp5t3
Summary: Carlisle's been having a rough week and in a fit of temper he takes a punishment too far. Horrified by what he has done he runs, and it is left to Esme to keep the family together. WARNING: this is an Esme spanking Carlisle fic. If this offends/bothers you then don't bother reading or flaming!
1. Chapter 1

**The Pastor's Son**

**Disclaimer:** Twilight belongs to Stephanie Meyer.

**Warning:** This story contains _**disciplinary spanking**_ of an adult vampire, so if this offends or bothers you in any manner, then _**don't **__**bother **__**reading or flaming**_!

**A/N:** So, this takes place in 1960 a few years after Fathers and Sons: Jasper.

HEY ALL! It's been ages, I know, but like always these fics turn out to be much more complicated and much longer than I ever anticipated. This one took a turn in so many more directions than I ever planned. It was mainly meant to be a discipline fic in the beginning, exploring the idea of Esme spanking Carlisle, but the more I wrote the more it became a fic of Carlisle dealing with his demons. For those of you who have read my previous fics you know I present Carlisle's father as an abusive prick, and that will be true for this story. Carlisle will be dealing with a newly arisen memory and the fact that he has never really come to terms with the abuse he suffered at the hands of his father. But that's all I'll say. I've put a ton of time and effort into this story and I really, really hope you enjoy it. I'll admit that I'm extremely nervous about posting this. I know it's not everybodys cup of tea, and that a lot of people won't like it, but for those of you that do, please let me know. Without further ado, here is the first chapter!

**Chapter 1: Rage**

**Carlisle's POV:**

I gripped fistfuls of my hair, trying desperately to bring myself under control. I was furious with one of my coworkers, the arrogant and incompetent Dr. Leigh. That complete and utter fool had disregarded my advice, and that had resulted in the death of a young boy. I had told him, I had _insisted_ that the boy needed immediate surgery, but the bloody bastard felt that he knew better so he had sent the boy home. If I had known I would have interfered, but I had been with an idiotic patient who could not understand why they were not getting any better. Well, if they would lay off the cigarettes like I had told them to then maybe they would not have so much trouble breathing! _Humans_! How could they be so damn idiotic?!

Barely an hour later the boy had been brought back to the hospital in an ambulance and put on my gurney table. Leigh had immediately offered his assistance, but I had slammed the door in his face. I had done the best I could to save the child, but he had unfortunately arrived too late and tragically ended up dying due to a ruptured appendix. I had very nearly lost my temper then when I had seen that buffoon's face. He had looked shocked before shrugging his shoulders as though it were some minor mistake he had made and nothing to be truly concerned about. I wanted nothing more at that point than to unleash my inner monster and bash his face into a wall, but before I could so much as glare at him a nurse, Nancy, grabbed hold of my arm and steered me away. I had allowed her to lead me into my office where she had sat me down with an understanding yet stern look.

"I know how you feel Dr. Cullen, but beating that wretched man up will not change anything. You will only land yourself in trouble. You know his father is head of this hospital," she spoke in a sympathetic tone.

I swallowed back venom as I gave her a stiff nod. Nancy continued to look at me in concern before then saying, "It was not your fault that boy died. You did everything you could, so do not blame yourself."

Pain coursed through me as I clenched my teeth before giving the woman another stiff nod. I wanted to thank her for her concern, but I was too angry so I said nothing as she heaved a sigh and walked out.

I should have never let that child out of my sight! I should have taken him into surgery myself. I knew Leigh was a blooming pillock, but I had thought for sure that he would not allow an innocent child to suffer because of his arrogance.

I gave a quiet growl before kicking my desk in anger. There was a loud crack as one of the legs broke and it fell to the side. I cursed before roughly shoving the broken desk into the wall to the left of me with a resounding bang. Papers and pens fluttered all over the place and I forced down a growl of frustration.

Bloody hell, how was I going to explain this? I suppose I could say it was a faulty desk and that the leg broke on its own.

I sighed heavily. This had not been my week, not at all. Everything that could go wrong had gone wrong, and I really wished it would just end.

To begin with, Esme had been gone since last week for an architect convention in New York and wasn't due back until tomorrow or the day after. I missed her something fierce and it took all my willpower not to beg her to come home every time we spoke on the phone. I _really_ needed her, but my loving wife rarely got time to herself like this so I wanted her to enjoy it. That is why I had refrained from telling her about all the mishaps that had been happening since she had left.

The children were driving me up a wall! They were always complaining, whining, or arguing about one thing or another. Emmett did not want to go to school, Alice had nothing to wear, Jasper would not stop playing with everyone's emotions, and Rosalie and Edward were at each other's throats. I was up to my neck with all their childish antics.

This was not the first time I had to babysit my brood without Esme, but they had never acted out like this, at least not all at once. Their arguments were so petty and juvenile and I had already had to intercede before fights had broken out, and this was including the girls!

If it weren't bad enough, two days ago I had sent the boys outside to let off a little steam. They had gotten into a playful wrestling match when all of a sudden I heard a loud crash. I was outside in less than a second to see what had been broken…It had been my precious car, my beautiful, black Mercedes Benz 300SL Roadster. It was completely demolished with an Emmett sized imprint.

I had immediately demanded an explanation and my three boys offered profuse apologies before hastily explaining that they had not noticed my car. They were used to it being parked in the garage, but since Rose had been doing work in there on her car she had asked me if I could park mine outside for the day. Growl rumbling in my chest I had given the three miscreants a withering glare before scolding them for carelessness and grounding them for a week. I had truthfully wanted to wear out their behinds, but my conscience had told me that this was a complete accident. Since that day I had been stuck riding my children's cars as I waited for a time where I could go and buy a new one for myself. I did not want a new car though. I wanted _my_ car, but there was no possibility of fixing it.

Rosalie and Alice had not been happy with me for grounding their mates as they had all been planning on attending a concert this coming weekend. They had badgered me incessantly and had even resorted to childish tantrums so I decided last night to ground both of them as well. That had not gone over well and I had come very close last night to just tanning all their hides, but I forcefully held myself back. I was too angry with the lot of them, and I promised them and myself that I would never punish them out of anger. I was not sure whether it was a vision from Alice, Edward reading my mind or divine intervention, but I was extremely thankful when they all eventually settled down, at least for a few hours.

It had been an angry bunch of teenagers that had greeted me in the morning with sullen looks and glares. I had barely resisted the urge to glare right back as I warned them all to be on their best behavior at school. I had already gotten a call on Monday from the principal informing me that Jasper had been giving threatening looks to several students and Rosalie had been disrespectful with her English teacher. I had given each child a dozen sharp swats before threatening them with much worse if I received any more complaints about them.

I did not know what had gotten into my little vampires but I was fed up with all their childish antics! I knew they were eternal teenagers and that all those trapped hormones flared up every now and then, but one would think several decades worth of life would have instilled a little bit of maturity in them.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to calm myself down. I was usually not one to anger easily, but as of late it seemed like the slightest thing could set me off. I knew part of the reason was that I had not hunted for nearly a month. I had not felt the need to at first, and then I had not had the time to. I had been planning to this past week, but the right opportunity had not presented itself. I had been working extremely long hours at work, and when I had been home I had to deal with troublesome teenagers. My throat constantly burned and because my eyes were black I had already received quite a number of curious stares. It would not be long before people started asking me questions, so no matter what I was going to have to go hunting today.

I looked up when I heard a knock on my office door, and curled my lip in disgust when I caught the scent of Dr. Leigh. Here was the other reason my week had been hell. Ever since this man had come to the hospital he had been acting as though he were Jesus himself. The man had worked in a number of hospitals before deciding to grace us with his presence at his father's hospital. He said he came so that he could teach us lesser beings a thing or two (yes, he actually said this), but I had a feeling he had been kicked out of the other hospitals for incompetence and that his father was the only one that would accept him.

Anyways, the arrogant berk roamed these halls as though he were a king and we his subjects to be commanded. He loved to target me especially due to my "apparent youth and inexperience". He said he was taking me under his wing, so I did the best I could to avoid him at all costs. Thankfully, the nurses felt the same way as me and had been of immense help in keeping us two separated.

This past week though, I had not been so lucky and he had been hovering like a mad bee criticizing everything I did. I took it all in silence at first but as the week wore on I began to argue with him and explain why I was right and he wrong. He would always become extremely offended before giving me a patronizing look as though to say, 'someday you'll realize how silly you sound'. Several times I had broken a pen or clipboard as I clenched my hands to keep from wiping those looks off his grotty face. The incident today had been too much though. I had no patience for this man at the moment, and it would be in both our best interests if he did not enter this room.

No such luck though, as even without me saying anything the blasted man opened my door and stepped in. His scent flooded my senses, and my throat burned hot as venom filled my mouth. Mmmmm. His blood smelled so sweet—Stop it! I thought in sudden alarm. I stopped breathing before fixing my gaze on Leigh.

"Carlisle, my boy," he called out with false joviality, and I gave an internal grimace. Who the hell was he to be calling _me_ a boy? According to my driver's license he was only 11 years older than me, and according to my real age I was several centuries older than him!

"What happened to your desk?" he asked in confusion, but before I could answer his face showed comprehension as he gave me one of his patronizing looks I so abhorred.

"Tsk tsk Carlisle," he scolded with a shake of his finger at me, "there is no need for you to take out your anger on the furniture." I stared at him, my mind in shock at having just been spoken to like a disobedient five year old. "I really should write you up (did he even have that authority?) but since I know you've had a tough day I'll let this go as long as you replace it."

I stared at the idiot in silent anger before deciding to humor him and nod. Perhaps he would just turn around and leave now. No such luck I realized when he closed the door to my office and took another step forward.

"I know you're taking the loss of the boy hard, but mistakes do happen," Leigh began to lecture.

"Mistakes?" I choked out in a chilling tone as I stood up. Oh no, this bloody peacock had better not be insinuating that _I_ had made a mistake, or that _I_ was somehow at fault for the child's death.

Leigh's brashness faltered slightly at my tone before he continued on. "Mistakes," he repeated with a nod of his head. "It's understandable with you being so _inexperienced_, but you have to learn to let others help you, Carlisle. The death of that boy could have been prevented if you had just accepted my offer of assistance."

I bit back a snarl as I got in the man's face and angrily yelled, "That boy is dead because of _you_, Leigh! I told you the boy had appendicitis, but it was _you_ who refused to believe me and _you_ who sent him home! If you had done as I suggested the boy would still be alive!"

Leigh immediately took a few steps away from me, and his heart hammered away. I could see fear in his eyes and I felt a glimmer of satisfaction. You should be afraid Human, the monster inside me purred ruthlessly. I could kill you so easily right now, you have no idea. I could make it look like an accident or a heart attack and no one would ever know. No one would even care or miss you.

I quickly pinched the bridge of my nose as I took a few steps back myself. Calm Carlisle, calm! Bring yourself under control!

Leigh quickly covered his fear though by glaring right back at me in stunned outrage. "How dare you accuse me of being at fault! Just because you are feeling guilty, it doesn't give you the right to go blaming others!" he roared back with a vicious sneer. "You are a pathetic excuse for a doctor, and all I have been trying to do is help you!"

I lifted my arm and was a millisecond away from grabbing the man by the throat and shoving him into the wall when a knock once more sounded on my door. I froze while Leigh just breathed heavily from anger. His face was blotchy and he hastily wiped away the sweat with a handkerchief and smoothed his little strands of hair back before opening _my_ office door.

The monster in me roared in outrage. This man is challenging you! Kill him! Rip out his heart and stuff it down his throat!

Stop it! I screamed at myself as I took in a huge breath. For God's sake Carlisle, _calm down_! Remember where you are. You cannot-you _must not_ lose control!

Nancy stepped in cautiously and turned a nervous glance from Leigh to me. Her eyes were kind when she stared at me, but I saw the fear that entered and heard the quickening of her heart beat which immediately spurred me into relaxing my expression before I quickly flashed her a brief smile. Her heart beat settled as she gave a slight shake of her head before she returned my smile with a hesitant one of her own.

"What is it Nurse?!" Leigh snapped angrily, and my eyes flashed as I once more held back a snarl of rage.

I opened my mouth intent on yelling at Leigh when I caught Nancy's pleading look. "Don't", she mouthed to me, and with much difficulty I clamped my mouth shut.

"Dr. Cullen," she then said in a professional voice, "I received a call from Principal Dent at Wiltshire High School."

Concern immediately flooded through me as my mind raced with what could have happened. "What happened?" I asked, and she gave me a sympathetic look before answering. "One of your boys, Emmett got into an altercation with another student." I froze at those words and waited for her to continue. "Emmett is fine," she said in an attempt to reassure me no doubt, "but the other boy has a broken nose and black eye. The principal is asking you to come to the school immediately so that he can speak with you."

I closed my eyes briefly before looking at Nancy. "Thank you Nancy," I said, and she gave me one last sympathetic look before walking out.

I quickly took my lab coat off and grabbed my jacket before glancing at the papers that littered the floor. I did not need any of them and I could clean this later. I was all too aware that Leigh was watching me, but I was fine with ignoring him until he decided to give an amused chuckle.

Looking up at him coldly, he gave me a smirk as he remarked, "Well, it seems that not only are you a failure as a doctor, but as a father as well. I can't say I'm surprised though judging by the temper tantrum you just displayed. Like father, like son, I guess."

I gritted my teeth and tightly clenched my fists as I graced him with a blank expression. It was taking all my willpower not to kill this man, so before he could say another word I quickly picked up my briefcase and raced past him.

I was extremely embarrassed as I knew Leigh would think he had gotten the better of me, but I supposed I should allow my pride to suffer as long as it meant I did not kill the man. At least, that was what I was trying to tell myself. The monster inside me was snarling with fury and demanding that I kill the man for having offended me so horribly, but due to centuries of practice I was able to ignore it.

I was also extremely embarrassed by what Emmett had done; and the fact that Leigh had been there to hear about it. His words had gotten to me, and I was suddenly furious with my son for having put me in this situation. Had I not told the children to behave while at school today? Was it too much to ask for them to act like the mature adults I knew they could be? A growl rumbled in my chest as I thought, 'When I get my hands on you Emmett Cullen, you will wish you had never been born!'

**A/N: **As you can see, our dear patriarch is not feeling himself lately. He's had a horrible week, and I'm afraid our dear Emmett is about to bear the brunt of his father's anger. Tell me what you think so far by REVIEWING!


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** Twilight belongs to Stephanie Meyer.

**Warning:** This story contains _**disciplinary spanking**_ of an adult vampire, so if this offends or bothers you in any manner, then _**don't**__**bother**__**reading or flaming**_!

**A/N: **I want to start by saying that Carlisle is going to be rather out of character in this story. Through all that he's going through, his normal calm façade has pretty much just evaporated and it is going to be a very, very long road for him to get back to the normal, loving man we all know and love.

On another note, just want to thank all of you who have taken the time to review. Haven't read them, but I'm sure they're as lovely as ever! Enjoy!

**Chapter 2: Snap**

**Carlisle's POV:**

I inhaled and exhaled deep breaths in an effort to calm my temper as I raced over to Wiltshire High school. I could not believe Emmett had gotten into a fight with a human. There was no excuse! He could have easily killed the boy! What in God's name had he been thinking? He could have exposed us all!

I shook my head of these thoughts as they were not helping me calm down. Think of something else, think of something else, I chanted to myself. You must calm down. You cannot go into that school in a temper, and you cannot deal with your son in anger, no matter how idiotic he has acted.

I gripped the wheel tightly, only letting up for fear of causing a crack. This was Rosalie's baby, and I knew if I damaged it in any manner she would probably castrate me, no joke.

Arriving at the school, I quickly parked in the first available parking space before making my way into the office. Once inside I went to the front desk and told them I was here to speak with Principal Dent regarding my son Emmett Cullen.

The secretary looked up at me with glazed eyes and open mouth, and I had to fight the urge to slam my hand down on the desktop to snap her out of it.

"Ma'am," I said a little more forcefully, "my name is Carlisle Cullen and I am here to see Principle Dent. He is expecting me," I added with a mild glare, and the young woman immediately leaned away from me before fumbling with her phone.

"H-His office is r-right d-down that w-way, sir," she stuttered as she pointed to her right. "I'll, um, I'll let him k-know you're on y-your w-way."

I rolled my eyes as I made my way towards Dent's office. I could hear Emmett's snickering, and I had no doubt it was due to the state I had left the secretary in. When I came into his view he looked ready to crack a joke, but after taking a look at my unamused expression he quickly fell silent and morphed his expression into an apologetic one.

"Pops," he began to speak, but I held a hand up to ward off any explanations and excuses. Motioning for him to walk with me I approached the principal's office and knocked.

"Enter," he called, and I walked in.

"Ah, Dr. Cullen," Principal Dent greeted with a smile, "it's a pleasure to finally meet you. I only wish it were under better circumstances."

I gave a tight smile as I responded, "Me as well."

"Please, take a seat," Dent then stated as he gestured towards the two chairs in front of his desks. I immediately acquiesced, Emmett taking the seat next to me. He glanced at me before sliding his chair a little farther away. He knew I was angry, and I hoped that would be enough to keep his cocky attitude and jokes in check while in here; and, if he had any sense at all he'd know that no matter his true feelings he better act repentant and apologetic with the principal.

"So," the principal began, "I called you in here Dr. Cullen to discuss the fight your son got into during his PE class today. I have no idea what the fight was over as your son refuses to share and the other boy, Mr. Sparks is on his way or most likely already at the hospital."

"Hospital?" I gasped in surprise before shooting a glare at Emmett who had the audacity to give a tiny smirk.

"Yes," Dent replies with a solemn nod. "The nurse that checked him out said he would be alright apart from the broken nose and black eye. We had him sent to the hospital as our nurse did not have sufficient tools to tend to his injuries."

I nodded my head before glancing once more at my bear who stubbornly refused to meet my eyes.

"I am hoping that with you here, Emmett will be more open to sharing what happened," Dent continued. "The injuries Mr. Sparks received were quite brutal, and I would like to understand what could have caused your son to react so violently."

"I too would like to know what happened, so Emmett, if you would be so kind," I prompted, giving him a look that just dared him to defy me.

He finally met my eyes, and after a slight battle of wills he huffed as he looked over at his principal.

"Look," Emmett began irritably, "I didn't mean for the kid to get so damn hurt, but he was saying some pretty bad stuff about my mat-I mean, about my sister Rosalie and I just couldn't take it anymore. I told the guy to watch what he said, but when he refused to listen I just lost my temper. I'm sorry."

I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth in complete annoyance. Damn it Emmett, are you for real? You attacked the boy because he was saying lewd things about Rosalie? How many times are you going to let what others say get to you? How many times are we going to have to discuss this?

"What kind of things was he saying?" Principal Dent asked, and I could tell from his expression and tone that he was unimpressed with my son's poor excuse.

Emmett's jaw clenched before he let out another huff of breath. "Stupid stuff, nasty stuff," he answered, anger clear in his tone, and I knew that was all he was going to say, at least in front of the principal. The boy had better have a more thorough explanation for me.

"I see," Dent replied unhappily as he sat back in his desk surveying my son. Shaking his head he then asked, "Despite what Mr. Sparks may have said, you do know that your response was the wrong one, right?"

Emmett gave a shrug as he replied, "I guess."

"Emmett Cullen!" I scolded sharply as I openly glared at him.

"What?" he snapped moodily, although I noted he avoided making eye contact with me. "Look, I said I was sorry and I meant it. I didn't mean for the guy to get so hurt. I guess I don't know my own strength," he explained repentantly to the principal, but he didn't fool me. I knew he wasn't the least bit sorry. Well, he would be when I got through with him.

Principal Dent stared at the two of us before nodding to himself. "Emmett," he stated, "fighting is expressly forbidden at Wiltshire High. We have no tolerance for it, and with the severity of your attack I have all the grounds in the world to expel you from this school."

I pinched the bridge of my nose at his words.

"However," he continued, "seeing as this is the first time an incident like this has occurred, I am willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. Instead of expelling you I am suspending you for two weeks, one week outside of school and one week of in school suspension. How does that sound to you, young man?"

Emmett frowned before beginning to say, "I think that sounds awf"-

I quickly gave his knee a hard squeeze to stop what he was about to say. He grimaced before clearing his throat and saying, "I think that sounds awesome sir, thank you."

Giving the principal my own grateful look I too thanked him. "Thank you Principle Dent, I really appreciate your leniency. Emmett is normally a good boy, and I assure you that nothing like this will _ever_ happen again."

Dent gave a short laugh as he reached over to shake my hand. "Of that I have no doubt," he responded as he once more stared between the two of us with a knowing look. I had no doubt the man knew what punishment awaited my obnoxious son when we got home. Emmett was now giving me a nervous look, and I alternated between glaring at my son and smiling at the principal.

"Well, I apologize once more for my son's actions, and as I am sure you have much more important matters to be dealing with I will take my son home now," I spoke as I stood up.

Dent nodded his head as he stood up as well. "Thanks again for coming in, Dr. Cullen, I do apologize for interrupting your work."

I waved away his apology with a friendly smile. He then turned towards Emmett and said, "I do hope you take this week of suspension to reflect on your actions, young man, and I also hope you don't make me regret this."

"You won't dude, I learned my lesson," he responded with a cocky grin and I slapped him upside the head.

"Emmett!" I chided angrily as he rubbed the back of his head and gave me a shocked look.

"Uh, sorry Principal Dent. I meant to say that I will reflect on my actions and that I promise this will never happen again," he said more sincerely.

"Good," Dent remarked before opening the door for us. We said our goodbyes and then made our way out of the school and to the car. Once in the car I pulled out of the parking lot and took off towards home.

"Jeez Pops," Emmett complained, "I can't believe you smacked me like that, and in front of the principal!"

"You deserved it," I told him shortly, "now be quiet."

"Be quiet?" Emmett responded. "What's got your panties in a twist Pops? I know I screwed up, but there's no reason for you to be so damned pissed"-

"Shut up Emmett!" I snapped, and he immediately clamped his mouth shut, once more giving me a shocked expression. He remained silent the rest of the way home, but I could tell from his crossed arms and disgruntled expression that he was fuming.

I regretted my harsh tone, but not enough to apologize so I remained silent as well. When we arrived home, Emmett immediately got out of the car and slammed the door shut so hard he shattered the glass of the window.

"Shit!" he roared, "Rose is gonna kill me!"

I closed my eyes and counted to ten over and over again to help calm my fury, but it was not working. Opening my eyes I glared at Emmett before simply stating, "You will fix that. Now get inside."

Emmett gave me a moody look before storming into the house.

"You better get that attitude in check Emmett Dale Cullen or I will," I threatened, and he clenched his jaw before giving me a short nod.

"Sorry," he muttered, and I just stared at him.

"My office," I told him, pointing to the stairs, and he gave me a nervous look as he said, "Now? Don't you want to go hunt or something first?"

"No, now march," I ordered sternly, and he nervously walked past me before flying up the stairs and into my office.

I followed at a more sedate pace, part of me saying I should go and hunt. I was angry and I should not be having this conversation right now, but I did not want to put it off either. I wanted this unpleasantness done and over with.

Once inside, I closed my door before walking towards my son. He was sitting in the chair in front of my desk and once I reached him I turned the chair so he was facing away from my desk. Instead, he was facing me as I decided to remain standing during this discussion.

Emmett threw me an anxious look as he clenched and unclenched his hands on the armrests.

"Explain to me exactly what happened today," I demanded, "and leave nothing out."

Emmett bit his lip as he no doubt pondered what he should say.

I crossed my arms and impatiently tapped my finger against my bicep. "Now Emmett!"

My son jumped before hastily beginning to explain. "Pops, it's like I told the principal. This guy, Nick Sparks, was talking with some buddies of his and saying some pretty raunchy stuff about my Rose and I couldn't stand it. I told them to stop, but they wouldn't listen!"

"Bloody hell Emmett, are you serious?" I stated exasperatedly. "You attacked that boy because he said some things about Rosalie? For crying out loud, people talk about our mates everywhere we go! How was this instance any different?"

"It was different Pops!" he responded as he made to stand up but I pushed him back down into the chair. "They weren't just talking about her beauty and how they wished she'd go out with them. They were saying, well they were…," he trailed off with an angry look, and I raised my eyebrows at him.

"I don't give a damn what they were saying Emmett Cullen, you know better than to get into fights, especially with a human at school!" I roared. "For God's sake, how old are you? When are you going to learn to _think_ before you act! You could have killed that boy, and for what? For some comments he made to his friends? You could have exposed us! You could have endangered the entire family for such a petty reason!"

"It's not like that Pops!" Emmett yelled back as he shoved the chair back and stood up. "You're blowing everything out of proportion, so just take an effing chill pill and relax!"

I saw red and was instantly in my son's face.

"_What did you just say to me_?" I ground out in a quiet, steely tone.

Emmett glared at me as he furiously responded, "You heard me, now get out of my face!"

The words were barely out of his mouth when I raised my hand and slapped his face hard. "Ah!" he yelled out in surprise and pain as he stumbled before putting a hand to his face as he gave me a stunned look.

"You do not speak to me in that manner Emmett Cullen. I am your father and you _will_ respect me, do you understand?" I asked.

Emmett's stunned expression turned defiant as he shouted, "What the hell is wrong with you? Why the fuck are you acting so damned"-

I raised my hand in a threatening manner as I bared my teeth at him. "I dare you. I just _dare_ you to finish that sentence, boy," I growled out dangerously.

He shut his mouth and looked both angry and hurt. Tears were welling up in his eyes as he glared at me.

I was beyond furious right now and completely fed up. I was tired of my kids disobeying my rules and disrespecting me. I was tired of all the childish antics, and I was going to end it right now. Emmett would be the example to the others that they had better shape up or suffer the consequences.

"Over to the couch, right now," I ordered, and Emmett's eyes widened. "But Pops," he protested weakly, "we're not done talking. You haven't let me explain"-

"We're done talking, and there's nothing to explain. You acted like an immature child and now I am going to punish you for it. I am through with you disregarding my rules so easily, Boy, and I am going to show you just how displeased I am. Now move!"

"Pops, please," the boy pleaded as he slowly made his way over towards the couch, "let me speak. I can explain"-

I let out a loud growl before grabbing him by the back of the neck and nearly throwing him over to the couch, "I already said we are done talking! Now for once in your life do as I tell you to and get your sorry self over to that couch!"

The boy quickly moved the remaining distance between him and the couch before he bounced from foot to foot in nervous anticipation. I could see a few tears fall down his face but my heart was hardened. I did not care. The monster inside me came to the surface and growled out words of encouragement. Yes, put him in his place. Show him who is in charge of this coven.

I stalked over to the nervous vampire until I was less than a foot away from him. He attempted to look brave, but his eyes belied his fear.

"Lose the pants and drawers and bend over the couch," I ordered coldly as I began to unbuckle my belt.

The vampire's pathetic attempt at bravery immediately faltered and turned into a look of horror.

"Papa, what-you're not seriously-please, can't we talk about his," he begged with wide eyes that did nothing more than infuriate the monster more.

He is attempting to defy you, it spoke. He is challenging you.

"If you make me repeat myself I swear to God I will whip you with this belt until it wears out," I threatened in an unyielding tone as I pulled the belt out of the loops.

The vampire began to cry silent tears as he fumbled with the button to his pants. He turned pleading eyes towards me once more but I only bared my teeth and gave a low growl in response, which caused him to give a quiet whimper. Once his pants were down and his fingers in the waistband of his boxers he had the nerve to try and plead with me once more.

"Please Papa, please, I'm so sorry for what I did, but please don't whip me," he begged in a distraught tone. "I-I'm scared," he then admitted with an extremely ashamed look, but that did not phase me.

The monster was in full control and all it did was respond with a look of cold fury, which caused the young vampire to stare at me in complete disbelief and fear.

"You are getting this whipping and there is nothing you can say or do that will stop me. You will learn to obey and respect me and my rules even if I have to beat your ass every day to make sure of it," I hissed. "Now, I am tired of your incessant stalling so we are going to begin right now!"

Without waiting for a response I grabbed one of the vampire's arms but before I could do anything he roughly pulled his arm away from me and shoved me away. "NO!" he shouted in fearful anger, "You're too angry Pops! You can't do this!"

I growled furiously at both his actions and words. How _dare _he shove me? How _dare _he tell me what I could or could not do! _I_ was in charge here, not him!

"Papa, _please_ calm down, you're out of"—but I did not give him a chance to finish his sentence as I was once more in front of him, my hand wrapped around his neck and I pulled him forward until our noses were nearly touching. I gave him a ferocious glare, and watched as what little fight there had been seeped out of the vampire. His eyes shone brightly with terror before I spun him around and forced him to lean over the couch. Grabbing a hold of his left arm I roughly pinned it to his back before lowering his boxers. Grabbing a hold of my belt I then raised it into the air before bringing it down hard with a loud _Crack!_

"Ahh!" the vampire screamed as he reared up on his toes.

I brought the belt down a few more times eliciting another scream of pain each time.

"Papa, please stop!" he sobbed. "Ouch! Shit Papa, I'm sorry! I swear to God-Owww!- I swear I'll behave!"

Harder, the monster urged, bring it down harder. Use all your strength!

NO! another part of me suddenly cried out, and I paused momentarily to shake my head before continuing the punishment. There was no need to hit the vampire harder as this intensity already received the desired results.

_Crack! _"Arrghh!"

_ Crack! _"Please please please stop!"

_ Crack! _"Ow Papa please! I can't take anymore!" he choked out between sobs as he reached his one free hand back. I growled as I quickly pinned it behind his back with his other arm before landing a vicious smack on his sit spots.

_ CRACK! _"OWWWW!" he roared out in agony as he kicked his feet and attempted to escape my grasp. I was stronger than this vampire though so I merely tightened my hold and pushed down with just enough force to keep him in place while not destroying the couch.

I continued to whip the vampire, ignoring his incessant pleads for mercy and when he was nothing more than a sobbing mess muttering incoherent words in between cries of pain I stopped.

Nooo! The monster roared. Do not stop! Continue! Continue!

_THAT IS ENOUGH_! Another, louder part of me roared in outrage. Stop this _RIGHT NOW_!

I immediately released my hold on the boy and as I stepped back to put my belt back on he collapsed to the floor and curled himself into a ball. His pants and boxers were in tatters from him having kicked so much but that did not seem to concern him at all as he wrapped his arms around himself in a feeble attempt to comfort himself.

My cold, unfeeling exterior began to falter at the sight and as the seconds passed by the monster inside me, having been satisfied for the moment faded away.

A chill went up my spine and dread filled my stomach as awareness and realization began to catch up to me.

I, Carlisle Cullen, was back in control, and I had just made the biggest mistake of my life.

**A/N:** Wow…harsh, I know…Poor, poor Emmett…So, my dear, loving Carlisle finally snaps and takes Emmy's punishment too far. I don't know if I made it clear, but I tried to show Carlisle losing control of himself and giving in to his inner monster as he dubs it. That's why you'll notice at some point he stops referring to Emmett as his son and instead just calls him "the boy" or "the vampire". It's to show he's no longer the kind, compassionate father we all know and love. Instead he is a cold and unfeeling coven leader.

Well, I'm almost scared to ask, but PLEASE let me know your thoughts by REVIEWING!


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** Twilight belongs to Stephanie Meyer.

**Warning:** This story contains _**disciplinary spanking**_ of an adult vampire, so if this offends or bothers you in any manner, then _**don't **__**bother **__**reading or flaming**_!

**A/N:** First off, just letting you know that the entire story has been finished, and it is my longest one yet. There are 19 chapters, so that should be some indication of how much drama is left. This is probably my most heavy story, emotion wise. As I mentioned Carlisle may seem out of character, but I've put him in a horrible situation, and as pacifistic and self-controlled as he is, even Carlisle has his limits. Prepare yourself for a TON of angst!

Secondly, YOU GUYS ROCK! I am SO loving your reviews! Thank you so much for being such wonderful readers, you make this all worth it!

**Chapter 3: Awake**

**Carlisle's POV:**

_What. Have. I. Done? _

I stared at the pitiful sight before me in complete and utter shock. Horror filled me, and for the first time since becoming a father I had absolutely _no idea_ what to do.

I had just hurt my son. I had just _abused_ my Emmett, my baby bear. I suddenly felt sick and if I had not known any better I would think I was about to throw up.

Tears filled my eyes as I continued to watch my bear sob his heart out, but I refused to let them fall. I had no reason to be crying. I had just beat my dear, innocent child.

_Why? How _had this happened?

Choking back a sob I hesitantly approached Emmett. I could not stand seeing him in this state so I was going to see if he would allow me to comfort him.

I kneeled down next to him and reached out a hand, only to become heartbroken when he flinched and scooted himself away from me.

"Emmett, my son," I choked out sorrowfully, but he just hissed at me through his sobs before shouting, "S-stay a-away from me!"

My heart completely in pieces, I immediately acquiesced and took several steps away from him.

"Emmett, I am so sorry," I apologized thickly as I continued to stubbornly hold my tears at bay. I had no idea what else to say or do.

"Mama!" he suddenly began to yell. "I w-want Mama!"

Pain coursed through my body as I regretfully told him, "Mama's not here, Emmy. She won't be back until tomorrow." I wished to God I could give him what he wanted, but even if I managed to get a hold of Esme right now she still would not arrive home for half a day.

"Mama!" he screamed once more. "P-please Mama, I-I n-need you!" he pleaded desperately and I had to bite down on my clenched fist to keep from sobbing.

Oh God, what have I done? What did I do to my precious son? I am a monster, a _monster_!

_You are exactly like me, _a voice spoke that sounded eerily like my father and I cringed.

_How does it feel to be exactly like your old man, son? You have made me so proud right now_, the voice crooned in mock kindness.

Shut up! I roared in my mind. You're lying!

But even as I thought those words, I did not really believe them. I _had_ become my father. I had done exactly what I had sworn to _never_ do. I had _abused_ my child!

"_MAMA!"_ Emmett roared once more and I wracked my brain, desperately trying to figure out something to do that would calm him.

Rosalie! Rosalie would be able to help him, I thought. But she was at school, and I would have to physically go there to get her out and there was no way I was leaving Emmett alone.

Panic, an emotion I rarely ever felt began to build in me as I watched my baby bear continue to cry out for his mother. Oh Esme, I wish you were here! Your cub needs you!

Noticing that Em was still half naked I raced as fast as I could into his room to grab a pair of boxers and shorts before racing back into my office. Cautiously approaching him I held out the articles of clothing in front of me, so he would know why I was coming near him. However, when I was about two feet away he screamed out in fright and scooted several feet away from me, crying out in pain as his abused bottom hit the floor.

It was like a stab in the chest seeing this, but I ignored my pain. "Okay, okay," I spoke softly, "I will not approach you, Em. I am just going to toss you some clothes so you can get dressed, alright?" When all he did was continue to sob while watching me with wary eyes, I tossed the clothes to him.

He quickly snatched up the clothes but made no effort to put them on. He only buried his head in them as he cried.

"Please Emmett," I begged desperately, "I am so sorry. Please let me help you, son. I promise I will not hurt you," I told him as sincerely as I could, once more taking a few hesitant steps toward him.

"S-stay away from m-me!" he hissed out in anger and fear. "D-don't h-hurt me!" he yelled, and I just about died at those words.

"Emmett!" I suddenly heard a woman yell, but I was in too much emotional pain to recognize who it was.

"Emmett, baby!" the woman screamed again, and Emmett let out another sob in relief this time before shouting, "Mama! _Mama_!"

Esme.

I sucked in a quick breath and froze. Esme was home.

**Esme's POV:**

I burst into the house and raced up the stairs in a mad effort to get to my little cub. I had heard his cries for me, and I had heard him beg Carlisle to get away from him and not hurt him. I had no idea what that was about, and I was not sure I wanted to know. All I did know was that my cub needed me.

Throwing open the door to Carlisle's office, I froze momentarily as I took in the sight before me. My husband was frozen on the floor, his face completely expressionless while Emmett was lying on the floor, half-naked and staring up at me with wide eyes.

"Mama!" he cried out as he pushed himself up, and I was next to him in an instant. He immediately wrapped his arms around my waist and buried his lead in my lap as he began to sob heart-wrenching sobs that broke my heart. Spotting the boxers clenched in his hands, I quickly put them on the boy, knowing that despite how distraught he was he would appreciate me covering him up. He cried out in agony as I did this and I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him up so that I could cradle him in my arms.

Looking at my husband I called his name, but he completely ignored me.

"Carlisle!" I called a little louder. "Carlisle, what happened?" I asked, but he remained frozen. I stared at him in utter confusion before turning back to Emmett and attempting to soothe away his pain.

"He hurt me," he sobbed brokenly, "He hurt me!"

"Who hurt you, Emmy?" I asked in concern knowing that he could _not_ be referring to Carlisle. I knew my husband and he would _die_ before hurting one of our children.

My beliefs were dashed though when the next words my son uttered were, "_Carlisle_. It was Carlisle that hurt me, Mama."

I froze in shock, unable to believe what I had just heard. No, there was absolutely no way! This had to be a mistake! It had to be!

But, as I looked at my son and over at my frozen husband, I realized that Emmett was telling the truth. He had been hurt, and it had been his father, my _husband_ who had done it!

Absolute fury tore through me as my maternal instincts reared up and I was ready to go rip apart the man who had done this to my baby, but when Emmett tightened his hold on me, I knew this would have to wait. My cub needed me, so I quickly refocused my efforts on offering Emmett all the love and comfort he needed.

It was at this point that I heard the rapid approach of a vehicle. The tires squealed to a halt and that was when I heard the yelling.

"Emmett!" My Rosebud screamed out in anguish. "I'm going to kill him! Do you hear me Carlisle? I'm going to kill you!" she roared as she attempted to come inside. Her efforts were stopped though by her siblings.

"Rosalie, stop, you don't want to do this," Edward grunted, and I had no doubt that he was forcefully holding my princess at bay.

"Jasper, calm her down," Alice ordered in a strained tone, and Rosalie let out a loud snarl.

"Don't you dare Jasper! I have all the right in the world to be pissed off! He hurt my mate!" she raged before breaking into sobs.

"Rosalie," Emmett moaned quietly, and he attempted to get up, but I held him in place.

"Shh, shh," I whispered into his ear before mentally telling Edward to hold Rose down there until she was calmed down.

A slight shuffling noise garnered my attention and I immediately focused my attention on Carlisle who sported a devastated expression as he stared at the boy in my hands.

I could not help the growl that escaped my lips as I protectively wrapped my arms around my child, and he flinched before looking at me.

My heart clenched at the pure and utter agony his eyes portrayed, but before I could really think or say anything he was gone.

"Dad, no!" Alice screamed out before Jasper yelled, "Let'm go darlin! You can't help 'im!"

"Good riddance!" Rosalie raged through her sobs. My heart was extremely conflicted. I wanted to go after my husband, I wanted to comfort Emmett, and I wanted to comfort Rosalie. In the end, I decided to stay with Emmett as his needs were the most important. I would help my other children next before finally tracking down Carlisle. It was an extremely difficult decision to make, but the best one.

Turning my attention back to the sobbing boy in my arms I gently rocked him from side to side while murmuring loving words.

"There there Emmy, Mama's got you," I cooed. "Everything is going to be alright." I ran my hands through his dark curls in a soothing manner and his cries lessened in their intensity.

I felt tears fall down my own face at his visible pain, both physically and emotionally. I had _never_ seen my baby bear so distraught and so inconsolable. Emmett was resilient and he bounced back quickly from any punishment Carlisle had ever given him. So for him to be in such a state, well, whatever Carlisle had done had completely broken him, and I had to hold back a vicious snarl at the thought. How _dare _he hurt my baby!

I dimly heard as my sweet children did their best to comfort Rosalie and my heart swelled with love and pride for them. I knew Rose longed to see her mate, but she needed to pull herself together before that happened. Emmett needed her to be strong for him.

"It hurts Mama," Emmett suddenly choked out quietly with a grimace as he reached his hand to rub his behind. He quickly stopped that action with a cry as it apparently hurt too much. How hard had Carlisle hit him?

"I know it does, baby, I know it does," I crooned softly. His cries began to increase in tempo again, and my heart broke with each passing second. I desperately thought for something I could do or say to help alleviate his pain when an idea hit me.

I had a memory of my mother giving me a warm bath to help soothe me when I had been sick or upset. I recalled how much the baths had helped relax me, so I was hoping the same would prove true for Emmett.

Grabbing my baby's discarded shorts I softly asked him to hold them while I easily picked him up in my arms. It was a bit of an awkward hold due to his large frame, but my strength overcame that awkwardness.

Emmett said nothing as I made my way into his bedroom and then bathroom. I slowly set him on the floor, making sure to keep one arm on him to help hold him up so his bottom did not touch the floor. I then turned the water on and once the temperature was to my liking I once more picked up my baby before gently placing him in the tub.

"It's alright Emmett, I am not going anywhere," I reassured him as he had a steel grip on my arm and was staring at me with fearful eyes. He relaxed his hold but only let go one time so that I could get his shirt off.

I allowed him a few minutes to just soak in the water, and was gratified when his cries once more lessened. He still had tears streaming down his face, but he was no longer openly sobbing. At this point I began to hum a lullaby while I gently poured water over my son's head. I then proceeded to rub shampoo into it, smiling when he let out a small sigh.

By the time I finished giving him his bath the tears had stopped entirely and he was taking shuddering gasps of air with an occasional sniffle here and there.

"How are you Emmett?" I eventually asked quietly after several minutes of calming silence.

"I-he-I don't," he began to stammer as tears once more welled up in his eyes, and I immediately hushed him as I once more ran my hand through his hair soothingly.

"Shhhh Emmy, it is alright. You do not have to talk about it right now if you do not want to," I assured him, and he let out a shaky breath as he nodded his head. He then wiped at his eyes and gave me an embarrassed look.

"I'm sorry Mama," he whispered in shame, but I just shook my head at him before lovingly stating, "You have nothing to apologize for Emmett Cullen, and _nothing_ to be embarrassed about."

He nodded his head at me, his look of embarrassment having lessened slightly.

It was at this point that I heard a knock on the door, and I knew it was my princess. Turning, I gave her a smile as I motioned for her to come in. She gave me an extremely grateful look before turning sorrowful eyes to her mate.

"Hi Em," she said in a small voice, and he responded with a feeble smile as he replied, "Hi Rose."

I decided it was time I take my leave, but before I did I gave my bear one last searching look to make sure he was alright. He caught my look and gave a reassuring nod, so with one last kiss on the cheek I got up and left.

**Emmett's POV:**

I stared at my lovely Rose with adoring eyes.

"Join me?" I asked and she gave me a wide smile as she nodded her head. She quickly stripped her clothes and climbed in being extremely careful not to hurt me.

I pulled her onto my lap and used my legs to make sure my aching bottom wouldn't touch anything. Neither one of us said anything as we offered each other the comfort we both desperately needed.

I could hear Mama talking to the others but I quickly tuned them out and just focused on my Rosie. I inhaled her lovely scent and ignored everything else around me. I didn't want to think about anything or anyone. Right now all I wanted was to sleep, but since I couldn't do that I would try and slip into a meditative state which was the next best thing. It didn't happen often, but if we became relaxed enough we could sometimes slip into a state that could almost be considered sleeping.

I inhaled another breath and just focused on my mate's breathing. In and out. In and out. In and out. Slowly I began to feel myself drifting off…

…I came to with a start, and with a quick glance at the window I knew I had been out of it for several hours as it was now dark.

"Emmett?" my wife called softly, and I placed a loving kiss on her cheek as I responded, "Thanks for staying with me Rose."

She turned to look at me with caring eyes and she gave me a beautiful smile. "I will _always_ be there for you, Emmett. You are my heart and soul."

I pulled her in for a passionate kiss before lifting her into my arms as I stood up. Pulling away, I gave her a charming grin as I said, "We should get out before we turn all pruny."

She giggled softly as I stepped out and set her on her feet. Grabbing some towels we dried ourselves off. Unfortunately, due to pure stupidity I idiotically rubbed the towel over my tender backside and immediately let out a loud yelp before dancing from one foot to the other in an attempt to alleviate the burn.

"Emmett," Rosalie cried out in concern. "Oh god, are you alright?"

"Just peachy," I managed to choke out with a forced smile that more than likely came out as a grimace.

"That bastard!" she suddenly hissed in anger. "I can't believe he did this to you!"

It didn't take a rocket science to figure out she who she was talking about. I understood her anger, but I wasn't so sure how I felt about what happened. A part of me felt fury, but I also felt hurt, betrayed, confused, embarrassed, and guilty. I wasn't sure what emotion to settle on, and I wasn't sure what I thought about Carlisle right now.

My memory flashed to his cold expression from yesterday and the fear I had felt, but just as quickly my memory flashed to a ton more moments of Carlisle's smiles, his encouragement, pride, laughter, comfort, and concern. I was confused. I didn't understand what happened yesterday and I didn't know what to think about it. What the _hell_ had happened?

Glancing over at my raging wife, I did nothing to stop her ranting. Her anger was justified, and I wasn't going to take it from her. Hell, I knew I'd feel the same damn way if our situations had been reversed. In fact, I'd probably be worse.

"Let's get dressed, babe," I suddenly announced, "the cold breeze is starting to shrink my bits, and I'd hate for it to become permanent."

Rosalie stopped her rant mid-sentence and gave me a bewildered look before bursting into laughter. I could hear my siblings' laughter along with my mother groaning as well, and I gave Rose a sheepish look. I hadn't meant for everybody to hear that, but oh well. Rose no longer looked ready to go hunt down and murder Carlisle so mission accomplished.

"Whatever you say Emmett," Rosalie laughed before walking into our bedroom. I spotted the boxers and shorts Carlisle had been trying to get me to wear yesterday and slowly and carefully pulled them on.

Holy shit that smarts, I thought once the clothes were in place. I grimaced before gingerly walking into my bedroom. Rosalie quickly lost her amusement when she caught a look at my expression but thankfully said nothing as she handed me a t-shirt. I put it on before turning towards my door as I heard my mother knock and ask for permission to enter.

"Come in Ma," I called once I was sure my Rosie was done dressing. Mom opened the door and looked at me with deep concern. I once more felt embarrassment as I remembered the pitiful state I had been in yesterday and how I had clung to her like a newborn infant.

"I'm cool Mom, I swear," I declared with a broad smile, unable to stand how worried she looked.

She gave me a searching look before her expression turned to relief. Walking over to me she then engulfed me in a hug that I gladly returned.

"I love you so much Emmett," she said in a heartfelt voice that touched me to the core.

"I love you too Mama," I whispered back sincerely before giving her a loving peck on the cheek.

Breaking apart I noticed she had begun to cry so I gently wiped at her tears as I said, "Please don't cry because of me, Mama. I swear I'm alright."

She gave a short laugh as she wiped at her eyes. "I'm being silly, I know Emmett, but I was so worried about you."

"I'm sorry," I apologized, but she just rolled her eyes at me.

"I already told you Emmett Cullen that _you_ have nothing to apologize for," she told me firmly, and I gave her a smile in response.

Rose came over at this moment and wrapped her arms around Mom and Mom wrapped hers around Rose. They were comforting each other when I decided to wrap my arms around both of them.

"Group hug!" I yelled boisterously, and I got my desired result when Edward, Jasper, and Alice suddenly appeared out of nowhere and joined in on the hug.

We stayed like that for several minutes and though it was pretty mushy I thoroughly enjoyed the comfort and love my family provided me. When we broke apart Mom was once more wiping away tears from her face which caused Jasper to send out soothing waves to everyone.

"Thank you, Jazz," she said before turning her eyes towards me. I knew what was going to happen now. She was going to ask me what happened, but before that I had a question of my own.

"Where's Carlisle?" I asked, and the atmosphere of the room suddenly went down several degrees. Expressions varied from anger to concern to confusion.

"He didn't go far. He's somewhere in Canada," Alice piped out with a worried look. "I remember seeing a sign that read Lake Winnipeg. He, well he's pretty distraught," she said sadly.

"Well, he should be!" Rosalie hissed furiously, although I did notice the brief flicker of concern in her eyes.

I turned to Mom at this point whose eyes showed despair. She took in a deep breath before looking at me and saying, "If it alright with you, sweetheart, I need to know what happened yesterday."

My mind immediately flashed to yesterday and I once more felt the anger, pain, fear, and sorrow. This was quickly washed away thankfully by Jasper who had laid a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"Thanks bro," I mumbled, and he nodded his head.

"If you want us to leave Em, just say the word," Edward said, and when I looked into his pained face I knew he had 'seen' my memories. _Sorry Edward_. He just grimaced in response before I said out loud, "No, you guys can stay. You're gonna find out anyway, so you might as well hear the story from me."

Rose took my hand and gave it a squeeze as she stood next to me, and the others gave me encouraging looks as I took in a deep breath.

"Before I start I want to ask that none of you interrupt, alright?" I requested softly, and they all nodded their heads.

I began by telling them about how I got in trouble at school, leaving out one big detail. I talked about Carlisle showing up and how irritable he seemed. I described the meeting with the principal and my punishment. When I got to our arrival home I turned to my wife with an apologetic look.

"Rose, honey, I am real sorry about your car window," I told her. "I swear I'll have it fixed before you know it."

Rose just rolled her eyes before giving me a smile. "Don't worry about it Em." I gave a sigh of relief before continuing my tale. I described how Carlisle and I exchanged heated words before pausing and describing how he had slapped me.

Mom gasped in shock while my Rosie hissed. The others looked upset but unsurprised so I gathered that Ali had seen this in a vision.

"Did he hit you really hard?" Mom asked as she caressed my cheek. I opened my mouth to reassure her that it hadn't hurt at all when she added, "Please do not lie to me. I _need_ to know."

Sighing, I placed my hand on top of hers as I told her, "Yeah Mama, he hit me pretty hard."

I saw tears in her eyes but I also saw a fire build as she stubbornly held those tears at bay.

"Please continue," she then stated.

I took in another deep breath to prepare myself for explaining what happened next. This would be more difficult to recount as I still didn't completely know what happened or what to make of it. All I remembered was the fear and pain I had felt.

When I was ready I explained everything else that had occurred, quickly rushing through the actual punishment part and how I had reacted afterwards. The others didn't need to know all the gory details. They already knew more than I would have wanted them to.

There was silence as everyone digested what I had said before a thought hit me.

"Hey Mom, what made you come home early? I thought you weren't supposed to be home until tomorrow night at the earliest," I said curiously, and she blinked at me before shaking her head roughly. I knew her thoughts had been focused on Carlisle.

"Rose and Alice have been keeping me up to date on what has been going on around here, and for the record," she said with a suddenly stern look at all of us, "I am not pleased with how you have all been behaving yourselves. We will be discussing your behavior later, I promise you," she said, and we all suddenly found the floor to be very interesting to look at.

"As I was saying," she continued, and I hesitantly lifted my head to see her giving us all a smirk, "Rose and Alice called me last night to complain about Carlisle grounding them. I gathered from everything the girls had been telling me and everything my husband had not been telling me that he was under a lot of stress, so I felt I had better get home as soon as possible before any of you pushed him over the edge. I never really thought for a second though that that could possibly happen," she finished somewhat subdued.

"It's all my fault," I stated guiltily, and Rose immediately shouted, "Not it isn't!" while Mom sighed, "Oh, baby, of course you're not at fault."

I shook my head at them. "I've been deliberately pushing Pop's buttons since you left Mom," I admitted.

Mom's mouth opened in surprise before she narrowed her eyes and demanded I explain.

"I, well, I've always found it kind of fun to rile him up a bit. I mean, he's always so calm and collected, so I thought it'd be fun to see how far I could push him," I explained repentantly.

"He wasn't the only one," Edward added in guilt, and Mom quickly flashed piercing eyes to him before looking into Jasper's and Alice's guilty expressions. Rose was guilty too, but she maintained an angry expression.

"Do you mean to tell me," Mom asked in mounting anger, "that all of you have been deliberately provoking your father in some idiotic attempt to get him to lose his temper?!"

We all cringed at her tone and sudden glare. "Did you break his car on purpose then? Did you hurt that boy just to piss him off?" she asked, and I immediately shook my head in the negative before looking down in guilt.

"No Mom, none of that was planned," I argued. "Alright, so maybe we broke his car on purpose, well kind of on purpose, but the rest of it wasn't planned, and maybe most our arguments and whining were on purpose, but the rest wasn't, today especially! We just wanted to ruffle Pop's feathers a bit. We never intended for him to really lose his temper. Oh, and I really didn't plan on hurting that boy either, I swear," I told her as sincerely as possible.

"Unbelievable," Mom muttered as she gave us all disappointed looks. "And none of you noticed your father's worsening mood? There had to have been signs because I know for sure that his temper had to have been building for some time."

We all exchanged guilty glances before Jasper bravely spoke up. "I knew that Papa's temper was shorter than usual, but I didn't do nuthin' about it," he explained shamefully. "I was kind of pissed with him for havin' spanked me on Monday and then for groundin' me so I couldn't go to the concert this weekend."

"We all knew he was angry with us," Alice added with a reassuring rub of her mate's arm, "but we didn't care. We felt Dad was being unfair with us, so we did nothing to help him. Looking back, we should have realized that something was off. Daddy is never angry for long, especially when punishing us."

"He needed to hunt," Edward inputted, "and he was having trouble with some doctor at his work. He came home from work every day a little angrier, but I didn't think much of it. Dad's never had issues with his temper, so I just thought he'd deal with whatever was bothering him."

Mom nodded her head before looking towards Rose and I. Rose remained stubbornly silent, so I decided to put in my two cents. "I noticed Pops was a little more short of temper, but like Edward I didn't think it was a big deal. Pop's got the longest fuse ever, and since there's always drama in the household, I figured he was used to it."

Mom nodded once more before letting out a deep sigh. "I knew something was wrong when I spoke with him on the phone, but he never told me _anything_ was bothering him, so I thought everything was under control. I understand how none of you realized anything was wrong, but I am still extremely disappointed with your deliberate attempts to antagonize your father. However, as I said earlier we will discuss this at a later time."

All of us except for Rosalie gave sorrowful nods of our heads as she rubbed a hand over her face. I hated seeing my mom so upset. This really was all my fault. Me and my stupid ideas, I thought.

"Mom, I'm really sorry," I told her. "This really is my fault. I shouldn't have"- but I didn't get to finish my sentence as my mother shook her head at me.

"Emmett Cullen, how many times must I tell you that you are not at fault," she asked rhetorically, or at least I think the question was rhetorical. "No matter what you did, your father should _never_ have reacted in the manner he did. He crossed the line from punishment into abuse," she nearly snarled and I gave a small shudder as my mind filled once more with memories from yesterday.

"Besides Emmett," Mom then added, "from the sounds of it, you were just the tip of the iceberg. If it wasn't you it could have been any of the rest of you," she stated with a sad look at the others.

Mom once more rubbed her face before brokenly murmuring more to herself than us, "I cannot believe this happened. I cannot believe Carlisle _dared_ to lay a hand on you out of anger."

I watched Mom with a sad expression. No matter what she said I knew I was at fault. I more than anybody knew how to push Pop's buttons, and the second I knew he was angry I should've knocked off the attitude.

"You're not to blame Emmett," Jasper stated in a firm tone, and Alice and Edward nodded their heads in agreement.

"You messed up, but Dad was the one who crossed the line," Edward spoke reluctantly, and I knew at that point to believe them because Edward _never_ said anything negative about Pops. He was a certified Daddy's boy, so if he was bagging on Pops then Pops had messed up.

"Yes, he did," Rose added in anger, "and I will _never_ forgive him. He better not show his face around here or I will"-

"Rosalie Lillian Cullen!" Mom hissed in outrage. "Don't you dare finish that sentence, young lady! Carlisle is still your father and"-she scolded, but Rose cut her off.

"No he isn't, not anymore!" Rose argued. "After what he did to Emmett, I want nothing more to do with him!"

"Rose, you don't mean that," I stated quietly, and she turned wide, shocked eyes to me. I knew my Rosie, and despite how angry she was I knew she still adored our dad. She was just feeling hurt and angry on my behalf.

"Are you _defending_ him?" she questioned in bewilderment.

"No Babe, but I don't want this to tear apart our family," I said gently. "I love Pops. He's the best dad in the world, and he messed up, but I forgive him."

Rosalie's eyes widened

"But he _hurt _you Emmett!" Rose yelled. "Alice said that you _begged_ him to stop but he wouldn't."

Embarrassment flooded through me as I shot my pixie sister a mild glare. "Aw, come on Rose, really?" I asked her with raised eyebrows. This was going to be a blow to my big brother pride, but I had to add it. "Look babe, I beg Pops to stop when he busts my butt with nothing more than his hand, and he's yet to listen to me. I mean, isn't it the same with you guys?" I questioned, turning my eyes towards my siblings. Please don't let me be the only one was the thought that raced through my mind.

"It's the same with me," Edward piped up with a sheepish look, and after the both of us turned knowing looks to Jazz he shrugged his shoulders and muttered, "Alright, yeah, it's the same for me too, happy?"

Rose frowned and although she no longer looked furious, her expression had turned conflicted.

"None of you are angry with him?" she stated in disbelief as she looked at each of us in turn.

Aw man, here goes another blow to my manhood. I gotta bare my feelings in front of my bros. "Yeah Rose, I'm angry," I admitted, "but I'm more hurt and confused than anything. I forgive Pops, but…I dunno." And I really didn't. I forgave the man, but something had to happen before things could go back to normal. He wasn't going to be able to show up and expect me to act like nothing happened.

Wanting to turn the attention away from me, I looked at Jasper and said, "How do you feel?"

The Jazzman bit his lip and flicked his eyes towards our mom as he contemplated what to say. I too glanced over at Mom as she had said nothing during all of this. She had tears in her eyes once more and a mouth covering her mouth as she stared at all of us with loving eyes. I suddenly felt horrible. This was her mate we were talking about, but I guess with what he did she felt obligated to stay out of the discussion. She must've been torn between loyalty to us and loyalty towards her husband. This made me angry, and I suddenly cursed my old man in my head for putting my mother in this position.

"I ain't quite sure what to think," Jasper finally spoke slowly. "Carlisle is our coven leader, so he has the right to punish us anyway he wants to." I frowned at those words before he then added, "But he's also our dad, and when I think of what he did ta ya Em, well I'm upset. I feel let down and a bit confused like ya, but I also know that he's gotta be feelin' mighty sorry right now with himself. I know Dad, and I know that the last thing he woulda ever wanted to do was hurt one of us, and for that I forgive him. He messed up, but Dad's a smart man and I know somehow that he will _never_ repeat this same mistake."

"That was deep bro," I complimented with a slightly teasing look, and he rolled his eyes before turning to Alice. "What about you, darlin'?"

"I forgive him," she stated firmly. "I know Dad is beating himself up horribly right now, and I know he didn't mean to cross that line. He is sorry and that's enough for me." She then turned expectant eyes towards Eddie.

His brow creased and like Jazz I knew he was choosing his words carefully. He'd known Pops the longest, so I was curious as to what he thought of all of this.

"I-I never thought Dad would do something like this," he started in a pained voice. "The first time Dad punished me I deliberately provoked him in the hopes that he would lose his temper so I could prove to him that he wouldn't lose control with me. He didn't, but then today he did. I'm angry with him for doing so, but I'm also telling myself that he's not as perfect as we all like to believe. I think we expect too much from him at times because we see him as our dad, the invincible, all knowing, compassionate leader. We forget though that, forgive the expression, but that he's only human. He's going to make mistakes just like us, and if he can forgive our transgressions, then we should forgive his."

"I understand that Carlisle will make mistakes, but what happened earlier today should _never_ have happened," Rosalie argued much more calmly than she had been, so I knew our words had gotten through to her, at least a little bit. "Hurting Em wasn't some small mistake he can just say sorry for and everything's alright. Carlisle is our dad and coven leader and he should be held to a higher standard. He's not allowed to make mistakes like this, and I'm not sure I can just forgive him as easily as all of you."

I wrapped an arm around her to show my support. I understood her feelings, and I was glad at least that she no longer looked ready to kill Carlisle. That was a step in the right direction, right?

Mom cleared her throat at this point catching all our attentions. She was no longer crying. Her shoulders were squared and she had a determined look about her. This was a woman with a mission. This was Mama Bear and she looked ready to go bust somebody's ass, and I knew exactly who that someone was. Pops, I sure hope you're ready for this.

**A/N: **So, Em is bouncing back pretty quick, I know but I see him as the most resilient of all the Cullens. He is not one to dwell on what has happened. However, just because he seems like his old self doesn't mean he is. He's still got a serious conversation to have with his Dad before he will truly be alright, but that won't come for several chapters.

What'd you think of the kids' conversation? What'd you think of Esme comforting Emmett? Let me know what you think by please REVIEWING!


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** Twilight belongs to Stephanie Meyer.

**Warning:** This story contains _**disciplinary spanking**_ of an adult vampire, so if this offends or bothers you in any manner, then _**don't**__**bother**__**reading or flaming**_!

**A/N: **Hey all, thanks for all the support concerning the little hater, I really appreciate it.

**Chapter 4: Drown**

**Esme's POV:**

I listened to my children's declarations and felt immense pride in each of them. I admired their frankness and honesty, even that of Rosalie who still harbored resentment towards my husband.

"Would you care to hear my thoughts?" I asked somewhat hesitantly as I was not sure if they would take my opinion into account seeing as Carlisle was my mate.

"Of course Mom," Emmett answered with a slight grin. "I'd looovvee to know what you're thinking."

I gave my son a short grin before turning towards Rosalie and speaking. "I am absolutely furious with your father," I began, and her eyebrows rose in surprise. "_No one_, and I mean _no one_ hurts one of _my_ children and gets away with it," I declared fiercely.

Rosalie fervently nodded her head in agreement while Emmett just furrowed his brows. He looked upset, but also touched by what I had said. The others just looked at me with expectant looks, clearly aware that I had more to say.

"However," I added more softly, "Carlisle is also my husband, my soul mate. I love him with all my being and while the mother in me thirsts for revenge, the wife in me urges for forgiveness. I am torn," I admitted, "between doing what is right for you and doing what is right for him…" I swallowed thickly as I briefly closed my eyes.

"I _know_ your father," I continued, "and like many of you have stated, I _know_ with all my heart that Carlisle regrets what happened. I _know_ with all my heart that he will not come home on his own because he will feel he is unworthy of being your father, my husband, our leader."

Edward and Alice nodded their heads at my words while the other three remained silent, just absorbing what I was saying.

I pursed my lips, carefully considering my next words. This was so difficult. I _needed _to do right by my children, but I also could not abandon my husband.

"I am going after Carlisle and I am going to bring him home," I stated, giving Rose a firm look. "His error was grievous but not unforgivable. You are correct Rosalie," I say giving her a kind look, "when you said that as our leader, Carlisle should be held to a higher standard and that this mistake should never have happened. But Edward is also right when he said that Carlisle is not perfect and that he will make mistakes. I know that no matter what any of you do, no matter how _badly_ you could screw up some day Carlisle will _always forgive you_. Can we not grant him the same courtesy?" I asked, giving them all, especially my princess a pleading look.

Rose stared into my eyes with a pained look, and I could see the confliction she felt. She loved her father dearly, but she felt betrayed by what he had done to Emmett. She felt hurt and scared, and I understood that. She felt she had to remain angry so that she could protect herself and protect Emmett. Would she give my husband another chance? Would she allow him the chance to ask for forgiveness?

No one spoke as Rosalie and I stared at each other. Everyone knew it was Rosalie who needed to be swayed as the others had pretty much already given their opinions. They were upset with their father, but they were also ready to forgive him.

Rosalie closed her eyes for several seconds, and when she opened them they showed resignation. "I can't forgive him just yet, but he can come home." I nodded with a smile. I knew this was the best we were going to get, so I counted this as a victory.

Emmett grinned widely before wrapping his arms around her and bringing her in for a loving kiss.

"Thanks Rose," he whispered into her hair as she laid her head on his chest.

Rose nodded her head before narrowing her eyes at me. "He better be damn repentant when he comes home, and you make sure to tell him that I'm going to be watching his _every_ move, and that if I even get a _hint_ of him losing control I will not be held responsible for my actions," she finished imperiously with an upturned nose.

"I will make sure he knows," I responded fervently, while inwardly smiling in amusement. Carlisle was going to have his hands full with his kitten when he got home.

"You obviously already know our opinions, Mom," Edward added with a slight smirk as he no doubt had been reading my mind. "We are all for Dad coming home."

"You tell him to get his butt in gear, Mom, because he is sorely missed! I didn't spend several decades searching for him just to have him run away!" Alice voiced with narrowed eyes and crossed arms.

I smiled at her as I nodded. "I will be sure to tell him that as well, Alice." She smiled back at me when I was hit with a sudden thought.

"Alice, dear," I stated, "I have a request, well, more of a demand to make of you."

"What is it-Oh," Alice said as her eyes went blank as a vision hit her. Blinking her eyes she gave me a confused look.

"You are to block all visions dealing with your father and me from this point forward." I informed her. "I do not know what will happen between your father and I, but what does happen will be _private_. I know it is not easy for you to control your gift, but I need you to promise me to do your best, am I clear?" I asked sternly.

"Yes Mom, I promise," Alice responded obediently before shyly asking, "But what if something bad happens to you guys, and you don't find out about it because I didn't 'see' it in time?"

"Alice," I sighed as I walked over and ran a hand through her short hair, "we will be perfectly fine. I just don't feel it is right for you and Edward to witness what will go on between us."

Alice gave a sad sigh of her own as she once more nodded her head. "I understand Mom, but you both better take good care of yourselves, you got me?" she added sternly.

I barely resisted rolling my eyes as I solemnly told her, "Yes Alice, I got you."

I heard as my boys failed to contain their snickers of amusement, and this time I could not help but roll my eyes. Sigh, I loved my family.

I took in a deep breath and focused my mind once more on what needed to be done. Looking at my kids I then told them, "Before I leave I am calling the hospital to inform them that Carlisle will be absent for at least a week. I will tell them his father died and that he is arranging for a funeral. I will also be excusing you from school for the next week, so if you must go into town and are asked questions you tell people your father is arranging for the funeral, and that you will be joining him shortly."

I gave them all stern looks to try and convey how serious I was. "I am leaving you alone, and I do not know when I will be back. I will call you when I can, but I need you to promise me that you will behave. No fighting, no arguing, no pranks, no _nothing,_" I ordered. "I need to focus on Carlisle right now, and I do _not_ want to be worrying about you tearing down the house, the town, or each other. Can I trust you?"

A series of 'yes mom' and 'yes ma'am' chorused throughout the room before I turned to look each child in the eye.

"I'll keep everybody in line," Emmett assured me, and I raised an eyebrow at him, but his expression was completely serious. It seemed like I was going to be leaving Big Brother in charge. I knew my Emmy took his role as big brother _very _seriously, so even though he was the usual cause of mischief around here, I knew that I could trust him to stand by his word.

Taking his face into my hands, I then asked quietly, "Are you alright Emmett? If you need me to stay right now, just say the word."

"Mom," he complained with an embarrassed expression as his eyes flicked towards his brothers, "I'm fine, really. Go kick Pop's butt for me, alright?"

I rolled my eyes as I let go of his face, knowing that he was as fine as could be given the circumstances.

"And tell him that I forgive him, and that I love him," he then added shyly, and I beamed at him.

"Tell him that we're not angry with him, and that we all forgive him too," Jasper added, although he cast a doubtful look at Rosalie. Emmett and I turned to look at her as well, and she took a deep breath before saying in a small, reluctant voice, "Tell him…tell him that I also love him, but that he better come home because I'm going to kick his as-um, I mean butt as well."

Emmett gave a snort while I just smiled and pulled my stubborn girl into my arms. I knew she hadn't totally forgiven Carlisle, but she was ready to take the steps to do so, and for that I was grateful.

"I am so proud of all of you, I want you to know," I declared, giving my children looks of fierce pride. "You have shown yourselves to be extremely considerate, mature young adults, and I appreciate more than you know the compassion and understanding you are showing Carlisle right now."

"Aw shucks," Em stated with a goofy grin and the others laughed at his antics. It pleased me greatly to see that Emmett was doing alright, and that our family _would_ survive this. Now all I had to do was find that knucklehead husband of mine and drag his sorry butt home.

"I'll pack your bag Mom, while you call Dad's work," Alice suddenly stated, and I thanked her before heading to our house phone. The hospital thankfully put up no fuss and accepted my excuse without a thought. They expressed their sympathies, and my heart warmed at the sincerity I heard in the woman's voice.

I almost called the school before I remembered that it was Saturday. I guess I would have to remember to call on Monday.

"Here you go Mom," Alice said as she handed me a bag. "It's got everything you need to last a week. Do you know where you're going or do you want me to look?" she then asked, and I immediately shook my head.

"Thank you Alice, but no," I responded. "I know exactly where your father is."

She gave me a curious look, but I did not expand and she did not ask. I then said my goodbyes before taking off at a run.

I knew the second Alice told me she'd seen a sign for Lake Winnipeg where I would find Carlisle. No one knew that we had a small cottage up there in the middle of the woods. It had been an anniversary present from me to Carlisle during Edward's _rebellious _years, and every now and then we would sneak off to it. We hadn't intended to keep it a secret from the children, but after so long without them knowing about it, it had become sort of a game to us to see how long we could go without them discovering it. We had even placed bets on who would find out first. I had guessed Alice and he had guessed Edward.

Memories of the different times we had spent there together flooded through my mind before I gave a rough shake of my head. These were not the thoughts I should be having. I had a strong feeling this was not going to be a pleasant trip.

I was somewhat surprised when I learned where my husband had run off to, but then I realized he wanted me and only me to find him. I had no doubt he could not bare to face any of the children after what had happened; and I had no doubt he was afraid to see me as well, however, his need for me outweighed his fear so he chose a location only I knew about.

I heaved an angry sigh. Why Carlisle? How could you have allowed this to happen? How could you have lost control with one of our beloved children? You _promised_ me! You _swore_ to me that you would never raise a hand out of anger when dealing with the children! You broke our boy down. He was coming back to himself, but I knew there was a part of him that would not heal without your help.

I am so damn angry with you! I am so damn disappointed with you! You are not allowed to make mistakes like this, Carlisle! Our family was nearly torn apart, and it is only thanks to the resilience of Emmett that we are still together. If he had not found it in his heart to forgive you, then I do not believe the others would have.

A tear slid down my face but I wiped it away. I must be strong. I cannot afford to be weak. I _must_ remain strong for the sake of my husband.

I know you darling, and I know you must be condemning yourself to the deepest pits of hell for what happened. I know you are tearing yourself apart, and that you will not forgive yourself easily. But you will need to. I will not allow you to drown in your sorrow because this family needs you.

**Carlisle's POV:**

I lay on the forest floor, not caring that my clothes were soaked or that the ground had turned to mud from the storm that had passed through here.

I felt numb. I felt empty. I felt _alone_.

I shivered, not from the cold but from the onslaught of memories and feelings that one word evoked. _Alone_.

I had been alone as a human and I had been alone for most my vampire life and I _hated _it. I hated it even more now that I knew what it was like to be a part of a loving family, what it was like to have people that loved you and enjoyed being with you.

That would all end now. I had ruined everything. I was alone once more and I deserved to be. What I had done was unforgivable. There was nothing I could do to take it back or make up for it.

I was alone now, without a family. They were better off without me. They were safer without me. They deserved a better leader, father, and husband than one who could not control his temper. I could not take the risk of hurting any more of them.

Pain shot through me but I ignored it. I deserved to suffer. I deserved rejection.

Esme.

I could not prevent the moan at the mere thought of my loving wife. She deserved a better husband. She deserved better than me!

But I knew my love, I _knew _her. Despite what I had done and despite how furious she had to be with me, she would still seek me out. She would still want to be by my side. I would have to convince her though that she did not want me, that she _should not_ want me. I could hurt her and I could hurt the children. She would have to take charge. She was strong and more than capable, so I knew she would do just fine. The family would survive without me.

I chose this location because I knew she would be the only one that could find me here. I hoped she would not bring the children with her because although I deserved their hatred and scorn, I was not sure I could handle it right now.

Rain drops began to fall on my face once more, and thunder rumbled in the distance. I closed my eyes and attempted to slip into a meditative trance, but I could not. I had never been able to, so I was not sure why I thought I would be able to now. One needed to be completely relaxed, and I was anything but.

What have I done? How could I have screwed up so horribly? I knew better, I _knew_ _better_. I _knew_ I had been short of temper, so _why_ the bloody hell did I insist on dealing with my son? _Why_ did I not hunt as Emmett had suggested? _How_ could I have been so damn _foolish_?

I felt so alone, so utterly alone. I wanted to see Esme again. I wanted to see her beautiful smile and loving eyes. I wanted to see my children again. I wanted to hear their laughter, their bickering, and I wanted to see their loving, caring, mischievous smiles.

Stop it Carlisle, I chided myself harshly. You will _never_ see them again after what you have done. You ruined your chance! You failed just as your father always said you would. You are a failure and you do not deserve happiness. You deserve to be alone.

_I told you, Boy_, my father's voice spoke in my mind. _I told you that you would fail. You are not worthy to be a father or husband. You are weak and pathetic, always have been._

I gritted my teeth at the words trying desperately to ignore them, but when they were coming from your head, what could you do?

_You had them fooled_, 'father' continued in a cruel voice, _but you have always been a good liar, have you not? But you cannot fool them any longer. You have finally revealed your true self and they __will__ hate you for it. It is only natural. You do not deserve love, you never have._

I kept my eyes tightly closed and clenched my fists in anger and agony.

"Shut up!" I roared out loud and the voice fell silent.

Damn him, damn him, _damn him!_ How was it that after nearly three centuries dead he _still_ continued to hurt me? How could the mere memory of him _still_ reduce me to the state of a scared, insecure child?

I felt a familiar ache in my chest, a familiar empty feeling. Hollowness. Tears came to my eyes, but I forced them away.

Do not be weak, Carlisle.

_Why? Why_ was I destined to fail? _Why_ was I not deserving of happiness? I almost wished I had never created my family, for the loneliness would be so much more bearable if I did not know what it felt like to be loved. The emptiness, the hollowness hurt because it was where my heart had been, and my heart had been ripped out when I had left home, when I had left my family, my love.

I hurt so badly. My father was right. I was not deserving of love. Unfortunately, I _yearned_ for it. I had _yearned_ for his love, but I had never received it; and now I _yearned_ for my wife's love and my children's love, but I had lost that through my own actions.

Lightning flashed illuminating the grey sky while thunder boomed and the rain came down in a torrent.

I watched the rain, transfixed by the sight. It seemed the environment was a reflection of my current mood, I thought wryly.

A memory suddenly tugged at my mind, a human memory, and I hesitantly let it come to the surface. Experience had taught me to be wary as my human memories were almost never happy…

_I was nineteen, and I lay outside on the muddy ground. It was pouring rain and although my teeth chattered and I could not stop from shivering I did not attempt to get up and go inside. I preferred to lie here for all eternity than to go anywhere near _him_. _

_ I took in a deep breath and groaned at the pain that small movement caused me. Curling into a ball in a feeble attempt to provide myself with warmth and comfort I bit down hard on my lip to keep from crying out. _

_ My whole body ached horribly. My back especially burned fiercely, and not even the cold rain was enough to douse it. My ribs and chest hurt, and I fearfully worried that a bone may have been broken, but then reassured myself that I would be in much worse pain if that was true. _

_ I took in another breath, much more carefully this time, but it still hurt. It was no use. Every movement I made hurt. I really should get up and go…somewhere. _

_ I really needed to learn to control my temper. I would not find myself in this position so often if I would just learn some self control. I knew better. I knew that becoming angry with that man only ever landed me in a world of hurt…_

I was roughly ripped from my memory when I heard someone shouting my name.

"Carlisle!" the woman called, and I recognized the voice of my wife.

"Carlisle, there you are!" she cried out in relief as she rushed over and kneeled beside me. "Are you alright?" she asked concernedly as she reached out a hand to my face, but I flinched and she quickly retracted her hand.

"Carlisle?" she questioned in worry as she gave me a shocked, hurt look.

I stared back, my heart warming yet painfully aching at the mere sight of her. I love you Esme, but I do not deserve you.

Esme stared at me intently, her brow furrowed, the worry increasing in her eyes.

"Oh darling," she sighed sadly as she raised a hand to cover her eyes. I watched her and felt even more pain at how upset she looked. _I_ caused this. _I_ am at fault once more.

Lowering her hand she gazed at me with loving eyes as she held out a hand to me. I stared at her hand, and then looked back at her face. "Let me help you, Carlisle," she pleaded softly.

Oh Esme, how can you want to help _me_? After what I did you should be ready to rip me to shreds. How can you find it in you to forgive me? I am undeserving of your forgiveness and your love. Please do not waste any more time with me. Go home to your family.

I gazed into her eyes and said nothing though, as my throat had constricted tightly. My mind told me I had to let her go, but my heart yearned desperately for her.

Esme stared right back, her hand still outstretched. "Take my hand," she coaxed gently, and without thought, without meaning to I somehow found myself placing my muddy hand in hers.

She immediately grasped it and rewarded me with a beautiful smile as if to say, 'well done'. I wanted to smile back, but I was unable to. Her eyes showed understanding as she hauled me to my feet and after looking me in the eyes she declared, "You need to hunt."

I made a noise of dissent as I tried to turn away, but Esme gently pulled me back and turned my head back towards her. She softly caressed my cheek before firmly stating, "You are going to hunt Carlisle. Your eyes are pitch black and there is no need for you to suffer so needlessly."

I turned my head away once more at her words. I deserved this suffering. The pain, this burn in my throat was nothing compared to the pain I had put my son through.

"Come," Esme ordered as she began to pull, and I considered arguing but I still could not bring myself to speak so I gave in and allowed her to lead me through the forest. I could feel myself slipping into numbness, but every time I felt like I was about to drown, a gentle squeeze of my hand or a loving look from my wife was enough to keep me treading water. I did not deserve her. She was so good, much too good for me. How could she bare to look at me? How could she bare to touch me after what I had done?

We eventually came upon a herd of deer and the burn in my throat flared up painfully. I swallowed back a mouthful of venom as I impassively stared at my wife. She furrowed her brow as she stared back, extreme sadness entering her eyes as she let go of my hand. Pain seared through me at the gesture as I immediately began to feel the familiar ache of loneliness in my chest.

"Do not move," she told me before rushing over to the deer. I watched as she snapped the neck of a buck before carrying it over here. She laid it at my feet and even though my throat began to ache even more fiercely I still did not drink. I only stared at Esme.

"Please Carlisle," she pleaded softly, "You need to feed." I frowned mildly but said and did nothing. Her eyes narrowed at this point and with a stern look she pointed at the deer and stated, "Carlisle Cullen you _will_ feed from this deer this instant!"

My eyes widened at her tone and without really thinking about it I immediately crouched down and bit into the neck of the buck. I quickly and eagerly sucked out all the blood; and when I finished I still felt unsatisfied, but I did not feel like heading out in search of more prey. I stood up and ignored the burn in my throat as I caught the scent of a wolf. Looking down at the carcass in front of me I grabbed it and hid it in the underbrush all the while keeping a close eye on Esme.

I felt a little foolish, but there was a part of me that was afraid that she was going to leave me.

That is what you want you fool, a part of me reminded, and I mentally frowned. You failed her. You need to let her go. You need to protect her and the best way to do that is by never being with her again.

But I do not want to.

What if you were to lose your temper with her? What then?

Pain coursed through me and I rubbed at my chest as though that would help ease the pain in my heart.

Yes, I must leave her. It is for the best.

"Carlisle, are you hurt?" Esme asked, tearing me from my depressing thoughts. I looked up to see her standing in front of me and I gave her a confused look as I shook my head.

"You were rubbing at your chest," she explained in worry as she reached out a hand to touch me, but I hastily stepped away to avoid it. Her expression turned hurt, and I wanted to say something to ease it, but I could come up with nothing. This is what I did. I hurt people. That is why I am not the one for her. That is why I must leave.

"I am fine," I finally managed to say and Esme's eyes lit up at the fact that I spoke before darkening at the obviously bold faced lie.

"You are the farthest thing from fine and we both know it," she responded, and I said nothing in response. Frustration entered her eyes before she took a calming breath and stated, "Let us go to the cottage, Carlisle, we need to talk."

I nodded my head in agreement and before I could even take a step she grabbed a hold of my hand and forcefully led the way. I smiled slightly at the gesture before frowning. Yes, Esme and I needed to talk and I did not believe either one of us was going to enjoy it.

**A/N:** So wow, Carlisle is really, _really _down. The damned fool is acting like the past 40 years have never happened. He is letting one terrible incident erase a lifetime of good deeds. Unfortunately, my favorite vampire has got a looonnnngg and horribly bumpy road ahead of him before he will back to himself.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Twilight

**Warning:** This story contains disciplinary spanking, so if that bugs you, then don't read or flame me because you have been warned!

**A/N: **Wow, I absolutely LOVE YOU ALL! (is that weird? maybe, but oh well) Your brilliant reviews and lovely support concerning a certain someone has been VERY MUCH APPRECIATED! I so love how much you are all enjoying this story so as a thanks and because I know I wouldn't be able to update until tomorrow evening I will give you an update right now! ENJOY!

Carlisle's father was never given a name, so I took the liberty of giving him one. Hope no one minds.

SEHinton13 has another account under the name AFgurl

**Chapter 5: Confession**

**Esme's POV:**

I guided my husband through the forest and to our gorgeous little cottage, my mind in turmoil. I knew Carlisle would be in rough shape, but this, well, this was much worse than I had anticipated. His eyes looked haunted and his expression was as blank as ever. There were fleeing moments where an emotion would pass over, but they were so quick I was sometimes unsure if it had even been there in the first place.

This was _not_ my husband. This was _not _the father of my children. This was _not_ _my _Carlisle.

When we both finally stood in front of the door I let go of Carlisle's hand so that I could unlock the door. Once it was opened I grabbed hold of his hand once more and brought him inside. I wasn't quite sure why I insisted on holding his hand, but I guess I was afraid that he was going to run. I had never had this fear before, but after seeing the look on Carlisle's face, I was no longer sure. I knew him, and if he felt that leaving was for the best then he would leave no matter what anyone said.

I looked at my disheveled husband and pulled him into our bathroom. He needed to get out of these filthy, wet clothes and into the shower. Thankfully, we kept extra clothes here and we constantly kept running water and electricity for unplanned visits. We had quite a few of those, the most recent having been just last month.

I brushed a wet strand of hair out of Carlisle's face, unhappy with his continuing impassive expression and dark eyes. He truly needed to have hunted more, but I could see that he was going to be difficult with me. I could not believe I had to actually force him to feed as he was always urging us to not allow our thirst to go for so long.

"How about a shower, Carlisle," I suggested as I began to unbutton his shirt but he stopped my ministrations by placing his hands over mine.

"I do not need a shower," he stated before simply walking out of the bathroom. I stared at him in stunned silence before walking out after him. Why was he being so difficult?

"Carlisle, please," I pleaded softly, "take a shower or even better, take a bath. You are soaking wet and covered in mud and debris. A hot shower or warm bath will help you feel better, you know that."

Carlisle shook his head before looking around the room. A flicker of pain passed over his face before the blank mask was once more in place. I walked forward and was reaching out to him when he evaded my touch and walked out of the room. Hurt tore through me like a hot knife as I stared at my outstretched hand. This was the third time he had evaded my touch, and I didn't know why. What was going through his mind?

Hot tears prickled at the corners of my eyes but I forbade myself from crying. You must be strong Esme! You need to go after him and help him. Carlisle needs you!

I took a deep and calming breath before making my way out of my room and into the kitchen. This was a room we rarely ever entered as we had no use for it, and realization hit me as to why Carlisle had chosen this room. He did not want any reminders of what this place meant to us and of all the pleasant memories we had created here. The kitchen held virtually no memories for us so that is why he had chosen it.

I felt fear as I pondered over this realization. He was planning to leave, I knew it. Well, he had best get that ridiculous notion out of his head because I was not going to let him go!

Carlisle stood stiffly with his arms crossed as he stared at the floor. Upon my entering he looked at me with black eyes and said, "We need to talk. There is no use in putting this off."

I frowned at his impatient tone before saying, "I do not believe you are ready for a talk, darling. You should relax a bit, go for a longer hunt, and clear your head before we"—

"Do you want to know what happened or not?" he interjected sharply, and I snapped my mouth shut before giving a resigned nod. If this is how he wanted to start this, then by all means.

"Very well Carlisle," I demanded a bit hotly, "Have it your way. Why don't you start things off by explaining to me why you didn't inform me of all the mischief the children had gotten into, or of how you were feeling; or why I had to hear of everything from the girls and not my own husband?"

Carlisle looked taken aback by my question, and I fought back a smug smile over the fact that I had managed to surprise him.

"Yes," I added, "Alice and Rosalie have been keeping me up to date on _almost _everything that has been going on since I left. They told me of most the trouble they had gotten into, including the call from the principal on Monday and the boys destroying your car. Last week things seemed under control, but starting on Monday I got the feeling that things were going downhill fast. The girls began to complain more, and it was mostly about you. They told me of your increasing irritability and how you had grounded first the boys and then them. It got to the point where I decided it would be best if I just came home, and it is a good thing I did. Why did you not tell me any of this was going on, Carlisle?" I questioned. "Had I not spoken to any of the children I would have fallen for your _lies_ that everything was just fine!"

Carlisle cringed and looked suddenly shamed. "I am sorry Esme," he apologized genuinely. "It was not my intention to be deceitful with you. I just didn't want to worry you as I know you don't often get time to yourself like this. I was going to tell you everything after you had returned."

I sighed somewhat frustratedly. "Carlisle, I am your wife," I declared strongly. "I am here to help you in times of need, and this was clearly one of those times. You are the most patient man I know, so for you to lose your temper, and to lose it with one of the children, you must have been going through _a lot_ of stress. _Why_ was I not aware of this?"

"I told you," Carlisle stated, "I didn't want you to be concerned, and I truly felt I had everything under control. If I had known I was so…had I realized how bad a state I was really in I would have told you immediately, I swear." He gazed at me with wide, honest eyes and I nodded my head to show that I believed him. I decided to let this conversation go for now as I really did not want to get into it just yet.

"What happened today?" I then asked. "What happened that caused you to lose control?"

Carlisle stiffened at my question, his eyes pooling with guilt and remorse. "I-I really do not understand how things went so horribly," he began. "I knew my temper was shorter than usual, but I truly thought I had it all under control."

"What put you in a temper?" I decided to prod. "Was it the children? Or was it someone at work? Edward mentioned there was a doctor giving you trouble."

Carlisle sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. "Both," he eventually answered. "From the moment you left the children had been driving me mad. They were constantly whining, bickering, and fighting with me and each other. They were restless, and I could not for the life of me get them to settle down," he recounted with remembered exasperation. "Then on Monday I received a call from their school informing me that Jasper had been scaring other students and that Rosalie had disrespected a teacher in front of the entire class. I mean, the children know better than to act so childishly! To make matters worse, when I confronted them about the issue, they both mouthed off insisting that they had been in the right. I finally became fed up and gave them each a dozen swats and threatened them with worse if they did not learn to behave." Carlisle grimaced slightly before taking a breath.

"The attitudes continued on and I eventually ended up kicking the boys out of the house for a bit to see if they could let off some steam. That was when my car was destroyed," he lamented with a pained expression. "I almost tanned their hides that night, but managed to restrain myself with just grounding them as it had been an accident. The girls were impossible after that," he groaned as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "They would not stop nagging me to let the boys off so that they could attend a concert this weekend, but when I refused they both threw temper tantrums." My husband shook his head in disbelief at this point, and I could not help but share his sentiments. "Can you believe it?" he said in disgruntlement. "They literally threw tantrums like five-year olds so I ended up grounding them as well. All hell broke loose after that as the boys joined in on haranguing me." He took another breath to calm down, as the anger and frustration he had felt in that moment reared up again.

"I very nearly spanked the lot of them, Esme," he confessed guiltily. "I was so angry over how disobedient and disrespectful they had been, but I managed to stop myself. I didn't want to punish them in anger, and I truthfully knew that while their antics had been incredibly annoying, none of them had truly earned a spanking."

I would have to disagree with you, I thought, as I recalled how many of these antics were deliberate. I was extremely disappointed with my cubs for all they had put their father through and I would be sure to let them know it.

"And what about the hospital?" I questioned, extremely curious to know about this doctor who had been giving him trouble. Carlisle rarely ever had problems with his coworkers, but…Oh, yes, I believe I know who the culprit was. Thinking back I now remembered Carlisle telling me about a new doctor who had transferred into the hospital and how this arrogant man loved to belittle others.

"It was Dr. Leigh," he answered in a near growl, his eyes somehow darkening even more. My eyebrows rose in surprise, and I wondered what this Dr. Leigh could have done to have infuriated him so much.

"He has been a bloody prick this entire week," he griped, and I once more stared at Carlisle in surprise at hearing him curse. "He has been insufferable, constantly following me around and criticizing every decision I made; and in front of the patients no less! He believes he knows better than everyone, but he knows absolutely nothing! He is an absolute _fraud_ and a danger to the patients!" he snarled hatefully, his breaths quickening in response to his growing fury. I couldn't help but be stunned by this uncharacteristic display of anger.

"I took his critiques in silence at first, but he was absolutely _wrong_ every time and my patients were beginning to doubt my abilities, so I began to argue back with him. This only worsened his behavior as he gave me these _infuriating _patronizing looks as though I were some ignorant child to be humored! Today though, today he crossed a line," he informed me, his eyes full of hate. I could not help but shiver in fright at the look even though I knew the hate was not directed at me.

"Leigh's incompetence reached a whole new level today when he allowed his ignorance and ego cause an innocent boy to die!" he raged as he slammed a fist down on the countertop, effectively breaking a hole in it. I did not really care though as I was focused on what he was telling me.

"I told Leigh, I_ told_ him that the boy needed to go into surgery right away, but he blew me off!" Carlisle yelled. "I knew Leigh was an idiot, but I never thought he would allow an innocent child to suffer for pure pride!" he huffed, his chest heaving as he fought to find some measure of control over his anger.

"I was in with another patient when he sent the boy home or I would have stopped him," he remarked in a much softer tone. "The boy came back in not long after and I took him into surgery but it was too late. I could not save him, Esme. He was ten years old. He had his whole life ahead of him and because of that _vile vermin_," he spat, "the boy's life was cut short. I should never have left him alone with Leigh. I should have just taken the boy into surgery myself," he said in a voice full of guilt and sorrow.

"Oh Carlisle," I spoke lovingly as I reached out to take one of his hands, but he avoided it by taking a step away from me. I nearly cried at the gesture, but I ignored my hurt in favor of trying to help him, no matter how hard he tried to avoid it.

"The boy's death was _not_ your fault," I told him. "You did everything you could to save him. It was Leigh's fault, and you know it," I insisted, and Carlisle just sighed dejectedly as he stared out the kitchen window into the stormy forest.

I pinched the bridge of my nose to keep from giving a grown of frustration and irritation. Why was my husband being so obstinate? I took in a few relaxing breaths and willed myself to be strong. I had a feeling his stubbornness was not going to go away any time soon.

"What happened next, dear?" I finally asked, and Carlisle turned his head back towards me, his anger now accompanied with shame.

"I nearly attacked Leigh several times today," he admitted quietly, and I barely contained a gasp of shock as I waited for him to continue. "The first time was immediately after the child's death because Leigh had the _audacity_ to just shrug his shoulders nonchalantly as though the child's death were nothing to fret over," he growled, his fists shaking from how tightly he had them clenched. "The second time was when the fool entered my office to speak with me." He paused at this moment, his entire body shaking with fury, and his eyes the blackest I had ever seen them. He truly looked like a murderous vampire at this moment.

"He actually blamed me Esme," he managed to ground out through clenched teeth. "The _fucking piece of filth_ dared to blame _me_ for what happened to the child. He said it was _I_ who had made the mistake, and when I called him on it, he shouted that I was an incompetent doctor who he had only been trying to help!" Carlisle roared before closing his eyes and calming himself down once more. It took several minutes, but he eventually looked at me once more.

"I nearly bashed his head into the wall after he said that," he informed me quietly. "You have _no idea_ how close I came to killing that wretched man, Esme, _no idea_. The beast in me just _begged_ for me to end his life, to make him suffer for his disrespect. It was only because a nurse knocked on my door that I was able to come to my senses," he confessed with a bowed head and I longed to run a soothing hand through his hair. I wanted to ease his suffering, but he was not ready to let me.

"I should have realized then that I was not myself," he then spoke with much more guilt than anger. "The nurse that knocked had come to inform me of Emmett getting in trouble at school for having attacked another boy. Leigh heard, and he called me a failure as not only a doctor, but as a father," he told me, and my heart broke at the devastated expression my husband now wore as he then quietly mumbled, "and he was right."

"I was so angry with Emmett," he said. "I could not believe that he would get into a fight with a human, and when I found out his reason, my anger only mounted. He told me he attacked the boy because he had said some lewd things about Rosalie," he explained with an exasperated shake of his head. "These kinds of things happen _all the time_ Esme, and he has been through it all before, so I failed to understand why he could not control his temper." Carlisle heaved a sigh, his anger melting off of him by the nanosecond to be replaced with mounting sorrow and guilt.

"Emmett was his usual self, speaking without thinking," he recounted with closed eyes, "and I was not up for his antics. I ordered him to my office the second we got home, and he-he actually suggested I go hunt, but I-I _didn't listen_. I told myself that dealing with Emmett was more important. I demanded an explanation from him, but he gave me the same ridiculous answer he gave his principal, and my anger grew. I was furious at the risk he placed our family in for such a foolish reason. Emmett grew angry along with me and when he began to scream at me, I…," he swallowed nervously before opening his eyes to look at me. "I slapped him…_hard_."

I gritted my teeth, buried my anger and just nodded my head. I needed to hear all of this before I spoke. Carlisle looked somewhat confused by my lack of response, but I just told him to continue speaking, so he did.

"He insulted me and screamed at me immediately afterwards but I raised my hand to him in a threatening manner, daring him to finish his sentence, but he fell silent," he recounted, his face full of pain. "He looked so hurt and angry with me, but I didn't care. I was so fed up with him and the other children. I was tired of their disrespect, defiance, and disobedience and I decided that I was going to make an example of Emmett. I ordered him to the couch and told him to bend over. He pleaded with me to let him speak, but I denied him. When he finally obeyed I-I took off my belt and-and he-he gave such a _horrified_ look." Carlisle stopped speaking and tightly squeezed his eyes shut as he pinched the bridge of his nose. I could feel sorrow and fury building in me, and truthfully, it was only the obvious guilt my husband felt that was keeping me from laying into him.

"He begged, he _pleaded_ for me not to whip him," he continued, his voice hoarse from all the emotions he was keeping at bay. "He told me he was _scared_, but all I did was snarl at him. My bear told me he was scared Esme, and I _ignored_ him. He told me to calm down and that I was too angry, but I _still ignored him. _What kind of monster does that make me?" he questioned, and I could see his eyes fill with tears, but he held them back with sheer force of will. "I then approached him and he shoved me away."

I gasped as Emmett had not told me about this part. On a good day Carlisle never took it well when any of the children raised a hand to us, so I could only imagine how much worse his reaction was since when he was already in a temper. "What did you do?" I demanded, fearful of what damage Carlisle could have caused Emmett.

Carlisle winced at my question before saying, "I gripped him by the neck and growled in his face before bending him over the couch and beginning his punishment." He fell silent at this point, and when I realized he was not going to say anything more I gave a rough shake of my head.

"No Carlisle, you are not finished speaking yet. Tell me exactly how you hurt Emmett," I ordered fiercely, and his face fell as he gave a resigned nod.

"I whipped him with my belt Esme, harder and longer than I ever have or would have done. I gave him no warm up, no lecture, and no reassurances. I forced him into position and kept a firm grip on his arm to keep him from fighting me," he informed me with a haunted look in his eyes. "His cries and yells were louder than ever and his pleads more incessant. He was terrified and in awful pain, and yet I continued until he was nothing more than a sobbing mess. I broke him," he confessed, and the more he spoke the more emotionless and detached his voice became.

I took in his words and felt sick to my stomach. I wanted to cry over the amount of pain Emmett was put through, and over the obvious pain Carlisle was in. I also wanted to strangle Carlisle and rip him to pieces for having hurt our son so badly.

"There was a part of me that reveled in what I had done," he remarked. "There was a part of me that tried to get me to hit harder and to not end it when I had."

"Stop," I burst out as I closed my eyes and took a few steps away from him. If he said anymore I was not sure I would be able to hold myself back from actually attacking him. The mother in me was roaring in outrage and urging me to seek vengeance for the harm done to my baby bear.

Carlisle obeyed my request and just watched me with knowing eyes. He knew exactly what I was going through and I realized right then that he had done this on purpose. He had held nothing back because he wanted to infuriate me. He wanted me to attack him. I was not going to give him what he wanted though. I took in slow and steady breaths until I was absolutely sure I was under control. Opening my eyes I noticed a slight frown on my husband's face. His eyes held frustration and I knew I hadn't reacted as he had wanted me to.

"You need not hold anything back," he stated. "Feel free to do or say whatever you want."

I let out a frustrated sigh as I shook my head. "I am not going to do or say what you are obviously expecting," I informed him as I took in his tense posture. He looked as though he was ready for me to attack him, and my hurt increased.

We watched each other in silence, each studying the other's posture and face, each trying to understand the meaning behind every word, tone, or movement made.

"Say your piece Esme or I will say mine," he eventually responded, and I could tell that like me, he too was frustrated by what was occurring.

"I will say nothing until you have calmed down, Carlisle," I declared firmly. "You may be presenting a calm front, but I can tell you are anything but. I am here to help you, my love, and to bring you home. I am not here to hurt you."

"You should be!" Carlisle snapped, the anger that had been bubbling just beneath the surface bursting through.

"Why?" I asked back. "Why should I hurt you?"

"Because of what I did! I hurt Emmett! I _abused_ your son! You should be absolutely furious with me, yet you stand here with a loving smile and sympathetic words acting like I did nothing wrong! Do you not care"—

"Don't you dare insinuate for even a second that I do not care about what you did, Carlisle Cullen!" I hissed angrily before closing my eyes and taking another calming breath. He was purposefully trying to anger me and he was doing a damn good job. When I opened my eyes I gave my husband a hard stare that he met full on.

"I am absolutely furious with you," I admitted fiercely. "I cannot believe that you hurt _our_ son so terribly, but I do not hate you; I could _never _hate you. I _love you_ Carlisle and I have already forgiven you."

Carlisle let out a scoff at my words, giving me a disbelieving look.

"It is true," I insisted, "and what is more, your children already forgive you as well._ Emmett_ has forgiven you and"—I started to say before he cut me off with a snarl.

"Do not lie to me Esme!" he roared before getting in my face. I stared into his furious eyes and felt nothing but overwhelming sadness and hurt. "Do not try and spare me! I know you have not forgiven me and I know that the children—that Emmett could not possibly have forgiven me! What I did was _unforgivable_ and _nothing_ I can do or say will ever change that," he spat as he gave me a challenging look as if to dare me to contradict him.

I met the challenge head on. Taking a step forward so that our bodies were touching and our noses mere centimeters apart I stared him straight in the eyes before saying, "I love you Carlisle. Emmett loves you. Rosalie, Edward, Jasper and Alice love you. That is how we can forgive you."

My husband just shook his head, a growl rumbling in his chest before he spoke.

"After what I have done, after I _abused_your son, you still believe I deserve forgiveness?" he pressed.

"_Yes_ Carlisle," I told him firmly, "I still believe you deserve forgiveness."

Carlisle's expression turned uncomprehending as he gave me a searching look. I kept my eyes on him and tried to convey honesty, love, and forgiveness. After several tense moments I watched as all the anger left my husband as he took a few steps away from me. He shook his head and looked completely lost as he ran a hand through his wet hair.

"Carlisle," I spoke lovingly as I reached out a hand to him, and he flinched as he stared at me with haunted eyes. I choked back a sob that threatened to escape at the action before once more reaching out a hand and softly caressing his cheek. He stared at me, his eyes full of pain, shame, disbelief, and fear.

"_Why? How_ can you forgive me?" he questioned but before I could answer he continued speaking. "I _failed_ you, I _failed _the children. I do not deserve any of you and I cannot go home with you."

This time it was me giving him an uncomprehending look, and I opened my mouth to tell him how wrong he was, but he roughly shook his head before raising his voice and saying, "No! Do not argue with me about this Esme," he argued in an almost desperate tone as he took a few steps away from me. "I have committed an unforgivable act, and I no longer deserve to be your husband or the children's father. I no longer deserve to lead you all. _You_ must take charge of the family now. _You_ must take charge of the coven."

I could not believe the words coming out of my husband's mouth. I had anticipated that he would not want to come home, but not that he would completely abandon our family; that he would completely abandon _me_.

Panic rushed through me, so I quickly rushed over to him, grabbed his arm and forced him to look at me. "You are being absolutely ridiculous Carlisle! How dare you consider abandoning our family?" I raged.

"I am not abandoning anyone Esme," he countered earnestly. "I am protecting you! I am not safe to be around! I could hurt"—

"Stop talking Carlisle, just _stop_ talking!" I snapped, feeling completely incensed but mostly increasingly hurt with my husband right now. I grabbed a hold of his hand, showed him his wedding band and then held up my hand to show my wedding band. "You made a promise to me on the day that we married that you would _always_ be there for me, _always_! You promised that you would never hurt me and that you would love and cherish me for _all eternity! _You are breaking your promise, Carlisle, and you are breaking my heart," I finished in a near whisper, tears falling down my face.

Carlisle stared at me with a devastated expression, and I noticed a battle raging inside of him before he wrapped his arms around me.

"Oh Esme," he moaned sadly, "what have I done? _What have I done_?"

I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my face into his neck as he pressed his against mine. We remained this way for several minutes just soaking in each other's comfort before I pulled away enough so that I could look Carlisle in the face. He tried to fight me, but I firmly grabbed a hold of his chin and lifted it up.

"It will be alright," I told him, but he just shook his head stubbornly.

"No, it will not. How can it ever be alright after what I did?" he whispered in quiet anguish. "How can I ever trust myself around the children or around you? I cannot go ba"—

"Do not finish that sentence Carlisle Cullen!" I warned with a harsh tug to his ear.

"Ouch!" he yelped, shooting me a stunned look as he massaged his ear.

"You can trust yourself because _I_ trust you," I told him passionately, but he just gave me a bewildered look.

"_How _can you trust me?" he questioned.

I gave him a gentle smile as I cupped the back of his neck with a soft caress. "I trust you because I _know _you, my love. I _know_ you will _never_ allow what happened with Emmett to happen again."

Carlisle gave a frustrated growl as he once more shook his head at me. "How can you know that, Esme? What is to stop me from hurting any of you the next time I lose my temper? You seem to think I have extraordinary self-control, but I don't! I _cannot_ be trusted!"

"Yes, you can!" I countered emphatically. "Do not allow what happened today to cause you to forget the good man you are. You are a wonderful father and husband, and this one mistake will not change that."

"But is has changed me!" he protested as he broke away from my hold. He paced around the kitchen in clear agitation, rubbing a dirty hand over his face. "You may trust me Esme, but the children—_Emmett _will never be able to. He was afraid of me," he spoke in a pained voice. "He cowered away from me in fear, and he had all the reason in the world to. I betrayed his trust. I made him a promise, a promise that I broke; and _that_ is inexcusable."

I pinched the bridge of my nose fighting back a yell of frustration. By God, my husband was more stubborn than all the children combined!

"You broke your promise, but it was _not_ an inexcusable act!" I said as I took his hands in mine. "Please believe me Carlisle when I say that the children, Emmett included have forgiven you. They understand that you are not perfect and that you make mistakes just as they do, and that is why they have forgiven you. They love you Carlisle, and they want their father back."

"You should all hate me," he responded brokenly. "Rosalie screamed that she wanted to kill me. How can you tell me that _she_ still loves me and that she has forgiven me? And how can you not want to tear me apart? _I hurt your son_!" he raged, the extreme guilt and self-hatred he was feeling clear in his face and tone.

"I know what you did!" I stated, anger sparking in me. "And, as I told you before, I am _infuriated _with you! I am appalled that you would even _think_ of laying a hand on _our_ boy out of anger, _BUT_, get it through your thick skull when I say _that I have already forgiven you," _I told him, accentuating every word with a hard poke to his chest. "And as for your kitten," I added with a smirk, "I will not deny that she would love to sink her claws into you, but you are her Daddy and no matter how enraged she may be with you, she still loves you."

"I—you—I don't understand," he stammered in a small voice. "I deserve your hatred, your _rage_. I deserve to be—to be…," and he gripped his hair in frustration as he once more made to walk away from me. I quickly grabbed hold of his bicep and attempted to turn him back towards me but he ripped his arm from my grasp and yelled, "Do not touch me!"

My mouth fell open in complete shock before I narrowed my eyes and sharply said, "I am trying to help you Carlisle! I am telling you that you are forgiven and loved and yet you refuse to believe me! Why must you be so stubborn?"

"Because I am a monster!" Carlisle roared as he slammed a hand down on my mahogany table, effectively breaking it. "I do not deserve to be loved—to be a part of a family"—

"Yes you do!" I yelled back, completely astounded that he could think so lowly of himself. "You are _not_ a monster and of course you deserve to be loved!"

"I am"—he started to argue before I cut him off.

"You made a mistake Carlisle, _one single mistake_! That does not make you a monster, and the obvious guilt you feel should be proof of that. _Your _family _loves _you and they have _forgiven _you, so _forgive yourself_!" I insisted desperately.

My husband gave a loud roar as he violently threw a large piece of the broken table into the wall. "I CANNOT!" he shouted in absolute fury, his chest heaving and his fists clenching and unclenching as he paced the length of the kitchen.

I shook my head at this display, unable to help but compare him to my children in the throes of a temper tantrum. I had to fight the sudden urge to treat him as such and land several well deserved swats on his stubborn backside. I blinked in slight shock at my thoughts, an idea beginning to form in my mind, an idea I could not help but shudder at.

**A/N: **Kind of an abrupt ending, but this is half way through a very long chapter that I decided to cut short. As you can see, the idea of handing out some much needed discipline to her ornery husband has just entered her mind. We'll see how carlisle takes this idea next chapter! PLEASE REVIEW!


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Twilight

**Warning:** This story contains disciplinary spanking, so if that bugs you, then don't read or flame me because you have been warned!

**A/N: **You guys are the best readers and reviewers ever! Thank you so much for all your wonderful comments. Sorry about the late update!

**Chapter 6: Idea**

**Esme's POV:**

I remained silent as this idea formed and took a closer look at my angry husband. He continued to storm around the kitchen in a temper occasionally raising a fist as though he wanted to hit something but managing to restrain himself at the last moment. He was breathing heavily, growls erupting from his chest. He looked absolutely enraged, but I was able to see the crippling despair and guilt in his eyes. My husband was fit to be tied with himself. He could not handle what he had done. The guilt was tearing him apart and no matter how many times I told him he was forgiven I was beginning to realize that he would never forgive himself unless he felt he had been sufficiently punished.

This was preposterous though. I could not believe I was truly considering this. Carlisle was my husband, not my child. Would he even submit to such an act? God knows I would never be able to force him, nor would I presume to.

But the more I thought, the more I realized that I was going to have to do _something_. Carlisle was drowning in guilt and shame and he had no idea how to deal with it. As I continued to watch Carlisle acting out in a temper, the more and more he began to resemble my children and the more my preposterous idea was solidifying. Out of all the kids he reminded me of Jasper the most right now. My southern boy had once lost his temper and shoved me into a wall. The guilt had eaten away at him until Carlisle had spanked him.

I knew if my heart beat it would be pounding at this moment. Could I actually do this? Could I _spank_ my husband? I fought back a hysterical laugh at the mere thought, at how ridiculous this sounded. There had to be something else I could do, something else to help him feel sufficiently punished…but _what_?

"Carlisle, take a breath darling and try to relax," I decided to finally advise. "You anger is not helping anything. Let us take a break. How about you go hunting or how about you clean yourself"—

"I do not need to take a break Esme!" Carlisle snapped, his eyes flashing as he glared at me. He looked intimidating and ferocious, but I was unafraid. I was his wife and I knew his heart, his mind, and his soul. He was in anguish and whether he realized it or not he had been pushing me to be angry all evening long. He wanted me to be furious with him. He wanted me to hurt him. He wanted me to punish him so that he could forgive himself.

"Then what do you need?" I asked back in sudden calm, and he finally stopped his incessant pacing and just stared at me. I raised a questioning eyebrow, but when he did not respond I asked again in a firmer tone, "What do you need, Carlisle? What do you want from me?"

The anger once more seeped out of his body to be replaced with confusion and sadness. With the ways his moods were jumping around I really did feel like I was dealing with one of the kids.

"I do not need anything—I mean, I don't know—I-I—why are you asking this?" he finally managed to say and I mentally gave a shake of my head at the picture he displayed. The more and more I looked at him, the less and less I was seeing my husband. This man in front of me right now was not Carlisle Cullen, husband, father, and coven leader. This man—no, before me stood a boy barely into manhood with the weight of the world on his shoulders. I realized now that I was getting a rare glimpse of the twenty-three year old young man that was thrust into an unknown world all alone and with no one to guide him; and who had been forced to grow up long before his time. Yes, I was getting a rare glimpse of Carlisle Cullen, the son of Pastor Samuel Cullen.

I mulled over this information. This definitely explained the sudden low opinion he had of himself and his belief that he was undeserving of his family and our love. If I had to gander a guess I would say Carlisle was letting the Pastor get to him. This had happened a couple times before, and it always surrounded his treatment of the children. There were a few times he felt he had been too hard on one of the kids, and he very reluctantly confessed to me one of those times that he could hear his father in his head criticizing him as he had done in life. I had always been able to stop things before Carlisle became too distraught, but I didn't believe words alone were going to be able to fix things now. Carlisle was spiraling out of control and if I didn't step in and do something soon he was going to allow his guilt to destroy him.

"I am asking you this because you obviously want something from me," I finally answered, "and I want _you_ to tell me what that is. You are not yourself today, my love, and you have been purposefully antagonizing me throughout our entire conversation. Why?"

Carlisle frowned before exasperatedly replying, "I have not been antagonizing you Esme. I have simply been trying to explain to you that what I did was unforgivable, but you do not seem to understand."

I shook my head at him. "Yes, you have," I said. "Look Carlisle, it has become clear to me that no matter what I or anyone else says that you will refuse to forgive yourself, am I correct?"

His expression was unreadable as he gave a curt nod.

"What will it take for you to feel you can be forgiven?" I then asked. "What can I do to help you?"

My husband looked down at his feet before looking up at me with an unsure expression. "I-I don't know what it will take, Esme," he said dejectedly. "I do not believe anything that you can do will help me forgive myself."

My heart clenched at his pitiful state, and that was when I decided that I would do this. As much as it would kill me, as much as it would hurt me, I would do this for him. I _had_ to. Carlisle needed punishment so that he could forgive himself and I was the only one that could provide it. Taking in a deep breath I mustered my courage before staring Carlisle straight in the eyes and speaking.

"If you were punished, would you then be able to forgive yourself?" I asked in a calm voice, totally masking the internal turmoil I was feeling. I could not believe I was doing this. I could not _believe_ I was actually planning on _spanking_ my husband like an errant child.

He has definitely been acting like an errant child.

But he is still my husband! I must be mad!

"If I were punished?" Carlisle repeated in a slow voice before letting out a sigh as he gave me a skeptical look. "Perhaps, but _who_ would punish me, and _how_?" he questioned.

I took in another calming breath. Here goes nothing, I thought before declaring, "_I _would punish you."

Carlisle's eyebrows rose in surprise before he asked, "How?"

"By giving you a well deserved spanking," I responded simply.

Carlisle's expression turned stunned for a second before he slowly grinned and let out a short laugh. "You cannot be serious," he chortled, but when he noticed my serious expression his amusement quickly left him. "You _are_ serious," he stated in disbelief.

"Very," I remarked with a nod.

He stared at me for a few more seconds before shaking his head. "No."

"No?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.

"No Esme," he declared firmly, "that is an absolutely absurd idea. I cannot believe you actually thought"—

"Why exactly is it an absurd idea, Carlisle?" I cut him off with a questioning look.

His answering expression told me it should have been obvious before he replied, "Because I am not a child, Esme! A spanking is a child's punishment, and hardly befitting for what I have done."

I narrowed my eyes at his response. "And what punishment would you find befitting of your crime, my dear?"

Carlisle glared at my patronizing tone, but did not respond.

"Would you prefer if I beat you, Carlisle?" I asked sarcastically, and he turned his head away from me, but not before I caught a slight look of guilt. "That is what you want, isn't it?" I gasped, but he kept his head turned away from me in stubborn silence. I was having none of that so I quickly closed the distance between us and forced him to look me in the eyes.

"You truly believe you are deserving of a beating?" I asked him and although he gave a slight shake of his head, his eyes did not lie. "Carlisle," I sighed sadly, "how could you think such a thing? _Nothing_ you have done or could ever do would ever warrant such a punishment. Is that not what you tell the children?" I pressed.

"Yes," he replied softly, "and that is the truth, but what I did does"—

"No it does not!" I interjected sharply as I put my hands on his biceps and gave him a slight shake. How was I going to convince him to change his mind? How was I going to convince him to submit to my punishment? How was I going to convince him that I knew what he needed?

"Listen to me," I demanded, "when I say that you _have never_ and _will never_ deserve a beating by my hands or the hands of anyone! Do not let your father's lies get to you!"

Carlisle immediately reeled back at my words, his face and posture defensive as he coldly responded, "This has nothing to do with my father! I deserve to be punished harshly Esme, and a spanking from you is anything but!"

"Excuse me?" I demanded in a chilling tone with a raised eyebrow, hands on my hips. Was he saying I could not deliver an effective spanking?

"I do not mean to belittle your spankings, love, but I am not one of the children," he retorted impatiently. "What works for them will not work for me."

"And why is that? How do you know a spanking will not help you?" I questioned just as impatiently. His attitude was really starting to grate on my nerves. I did not appreciate how dismissive he was of this punishment. How could he not see how much this would help him? Was it pride? No, it couldn't be. Carlisle was the most humble man I knew, but…could it be?

"Because I just know!" Carlisle shouted angrily, and I could not help the amused smirk I sported at his childish response. Oh, my dear, you are only further proving to me that this is what you need. Now, how to convince you?

"Darling, that is hardly a proper answer and you know it. Neither one of us would ever allow one of the children to give us so vague an answer so how about we give each other the same respect. Now why don't you try again?" I told him, and a growl escaped from him as he glared.

"I am _not_ a child," he ground out through clenched teeth.

"Yes, you have said that repeatedly, but I am still waiting for you to answer my question," I replied with long practice patience. "Why will a spanking not be effective with you?"

"Not harsh enough," he answered curtly, and I withheld a sigh of frustration. What could I say? How could I respond to this? My mind whirled with ideas before a sudden thought occurred to me.

"Carlisle, have you ever even been spanked?" I questioned, and he immediately looked taken aback, the anger quickly being replaced with confusion. "And I do not count your father's punishments. Those were abuse, and you know that," I added when he opened his mouth to response. He slowly closed it, a pensive look crossing his expression before he nodded his head uncertainly.

"You don't look so sure," I informed him, and he gave a firmer nod.

"I was spanked a couple of times by my friend James's father. I don't quite recall the reasons... What I do remember is how different the punishment was from my father's," he recounted softly with a faraway look. "I did not feel terror and while it certainly hurt, there was no lasting or permanent damage. James's father only ever spanked me on the backside. He never broke the skin and he never used an implement on me, although I knew he did with James. He probably did not want me to confuse his punishments with those of my fathers," he said, speaking somewhat more to himself than to me.

I listened quietly as I was completely enraptured with what he was telling me. Carlisle never willingly spoke of his past because most his memories revolved around his father, and they were painful for him to think about. I had managed to pull a few details from him the first time I had discovered the scars he still bore, but since then what little else I learned had been let out on accident. To date, the only good memory I had heard from him was of an old caretaker who used to sing to him, but even that story ended tragically.

"Do you remember how you felt after you were punished," I asked quietly, and Carlisle gave a slow nod as he said, "Yes. Relief was a prominent emotion, most likely due to the fact that I could actually walk away from the punishment," he told me with a wry smile before frowning as he no doubt realized what he had said did not merit a smile of any sort. His expression turned somewhat embarrassed before he then said, "I also recall feeling cared for. James's father—Arthur was his name—well, he told me that he cared about me and that I was forgiven. I was not accustomed to—my father never…," he shut his mouth, and I could see his jaw muscles flexing as he looked to the floor. It was clear that this conversation had him extremely uncomfortable, and it was clear that he was ashamed.

Ashamed of what though? Of what happened? Of what he felt? Carlisle was the most understanding and compassionate man I had ever met. He was wonderful with the children and with me in helping us overcome difficult moments from our pasts, and I wondered why he could not offer himself that same understanding and compassion. I wondered how he was so blind to what he was experiencing, because I knew if this had been Jasper feeling ashamed of wanting to feel cared for then Carlisle would have immediately told him he had no reason to be. But it seemed my husband did not allow himself the same courtesy. Hmmmm.

"Did his punishment absolve you of any guilt you felt?" I had to ask as this was the reason I was pushing for a spanking in the first place.

Carlisle sighed as he ran a hand through his blonde hair. "Yes, no, I don't know. Why are we still on this subject?" he demanded, his irritability once more making a show. "I already told you that I am not submitting to a spanking."

With great difficulty I managed to hold back another sigh of frustration before deciding on a new tactic. "Why do you spank the children, Carlisle? You were rarely spanked as a child, so how did you know that it would help our children?"

Carlisle heaved a disgruntled sigh as he rubbed a hand over his face. "Are we really getting into this right now?" he griped crossly.

"Humor me," I remarked with an expectant look.

He closed his eyes briefly and took in a deep breath to calm himself. Good, I thought, he should have done that ages ago. When he opened his eyes they were still as black as night, but his expression was certainly more relaxed.

"I spank the children for two reasons," he began in a business-like tone. "The first is that it teaches them to not only mind us, but to more importantly _think_ before they act. The next time they find themselves tempted to disobey a rule they will hopefully recall the unpleasant punishment and stop to think for a moment. A sore bottom is a small price to pay if it means avoiding endangerment of themselves or the family, harmful words, or loss of trust. The first time I decided to spank Edward I did it because I was at my wit's end. He was constantly fighting and arguing with me over every little thing I asked or demanded of him. The last straw came when I told him to remain in the house due to the fact that he was still not in complete control of his thirst, and he disobeyed me. He went into town, got into a fight with a group of boys, and nearly fed off of one of them. Had I not arrived when I had, the boy would have been killed," he explained with a slight frown.

I listened intently. I had heard brief mentions of Edward's first spanking, but never in any detail.

"After a _misunderstanding_," he continued, and I gave him a curious look at his emphasis on the word misunderstanding, "I spanked Edward in order to teach him that my rules were to be obeyed. He nearly took a boy's life, and he nearly lost his own." Both my eyebrows rose at his admission, but when he did not expand I decided not to press. I would ask another time, but this tidbit was clearly not relevant to the point he was trying to make. "The spanking worked and Edward's behavior became vastly improved. He certainly learned to think twice before defying me."

Carlisle gave me a questioning look asking if I was following him, and I nodded my head. He then took another breath before stating, "And the second reason I spank the children is so that…is so that they…," he trailed off at this moment and gave me a suddenly accusing look. He had finally figured out where I was going with this. A little slow today, darling, aren't we?

"Is so that they can overcome their guilt and forgive themselves," I finished for him, somewhat smugly. "For example, when Emmett attacked and bit you the poor boy was terribly guilty. He could not stand what he had done and he could not fathom how we could still love him after he had hurt you," I explained, and my husband just shook his head with a pained expression.

"Yes," I countered before continuing my tale. "It took both of us to convince him that of course we still loved him, and it took you whipping him to finally allow him to forgive himself."

"Esme, it is not"—he began to moan, but I cut him off as I said, "So you need another example? Fine. A few years ago Jasper lost his temper and shoved me into a wall. I forgave him instantly and I told him repeatedly that I had, but he refused to accept it because he did not feel that he deserved it. Is any of this sounding familiar, Carlisle?" I questioned, and he gave me a desperate look that I ignored. "Jasper felt what he had done was unforgivable. He was more than willing to accept your punishment, but when you told him you planned on spanking him he immediately protested and demanded a harsher punishment. He felt a spanking was a _child's punishment_, and that _he was no child_."

"Esme, _please stop_," Carlisle begged, but I once more ignored him.

"He said because of his past that such a punishment would not help him, but was he right?" I pressed, and Carlisle closed his eyes as he gave a short shake of his head. "No," I agreed, "he was completely wrong. You spanked him, and our tough little soldier felt very punished indeed when it was all said and done; _and_ he was able to finally forgive himself. So, you tell me Carlisle Cullen, how can you be so sure that the same will not be true for you?" I demanded firmly.

"I-I don't know," he responded desolately as he turned his back on me and leaned onto the kitchen sink. That was not the answer I wanted and I was far from finished.

"Turn around and look at me," I ordered, and with great reluctance my husband turned around and faced me. His face showed guilt and desperation, but no more anger. I could tell he understood the point I was trying to make, but that he still was not convinced.

"You have been spanking our children for four decades now and you have seen the good it has done for them," I remarked. "It has served as a reminder to behave and it has absolved them of their guilt. You broke a family rule today, one that _you_ came up with. You lost your temper and harmed your own son. Had it been any of the children who had done this there would be no discussion over what punishment to choose as it is well known that physically hurting another member of this family will result in a spanking."

"That is true, but I am not one of the children, Esme," Carlisle protested weakly, and I nodded my head in agreement.

"You are correct, my love, you are _not_ one of the children. You are their father and their coven leader, and as such you should be held to a higher standard. You _are not_ allowed to make these kinds of mistakes, Carlisle!" I insisted loudly. "How can you expect the children to follow your rules if you yourself break them? You lead by example, and today you failed," I scolded mildly, but it was enough to cause my husband's expression to turn desolate as he lowered his eyes to the floor.

I reached out and gently lifted his head. "I have forgiven you and the children have forgiven you, but I can see that is not enough for you. I did not come here with the intentions of punishing you, but the more time we have spent together the more I can see that this is what you need, not only so that you can purge yourself of your guilt, but so that it can be assured that you _never ever_ have such a lapse in judgment again," I stated in a quiet yet firm tone.

Carlisle stared at me with his dark, despairing eyes for several silent minutes before he began to slowly nod his head. "I will not argue with you, Esme, as everything you have said is the truth," he remarked quietly. "This mistake should _never_ have happened. I broke a family rule, and I should be held accountable just as the children would be if they had broken the rule. In fact, I should be held more accountable as I am not allowed to make such grievous errors. I failed in my duties as a father, and I am more than deserving of a harsh punishment."

"Will you submit to a spanking then?" I pressed, and his expression turned conflicted. Why? Why is he so reluctant?

"Why are you so against this punishment on yourself, Carlisle?" I asked him as I wrapped comforting arms around him. He eagerly returned the embrace, and I felt relief that he accepted my comfort as it was all too obvious how much he needed it.

"Is it pride?" I questioned when he remained silent, and when he did not answer that question either I pulled away slightly so that I could look him in the face.

"Carlisle, _please _talk to me," I pleaded. "I cannot help you if you will not talk to me. What is it that bothers you so? Do you still feel this will not work, or are you ashamed to submit yourself to me?"

My husband closed his eyes for several seconds before reluctantly whispering, "I am ashamed." I nodded my head in understanding, but since he kept his eyes closed he did not see. I gave his cheek a soft caress to get him to open his eyes and when he did, I made sure there was no judgment in my eyes. He seemed to notice this for he relaxed minutely before giving a nervous swallow and beginning to explain.

"I am deeply ashamed of what I did, over how I have been acting, of how I cannot overcome this on my own," he admitted shamefaced, and I had to fight hard to keep from frowning at that last statement. "I cannot believe the position I have put you in, love," he continued guiltily. "I am so ashamed that you feel I need punishment so that I may forgive myself; and I am so ashamed at the thought of submitting to a-a spanking," he spoke with a good amount self-disgust.

"Carlisle," I began to say, but he shook his head to stop me.

"I know I have more than earned such a punishment, and I acknowledge that it has the potential of proving beneficial in helping me, but I…," he trailed off before giving a shaky laugh. "It has been over three centuries Esme since the last time someone felt the need to take me in hand," he told me sheepishly, and I could not help but smile at him. "And I have never been punished by a woman, and you are my wife, my equal, and-and yes, I believe I suffer from a bit of pride," he finally admitted with an embarrassed look. I nodded my head, giving him an encouraging nod to continue speaking. I felt no need to give my opinion just yet as I felt he needed to work this out on his own.

"We are equals," he assured me, "but I am a man, and a man must be strong and resilient. A man does not show weakness or vulnerability. He is always in control and depends on no one other than himself," he recited, and I finally allowed myself to frown. He expected none of this from our sons, yet I knew he viewed them as men; so why did he expect this of himself? I bit my lip to keep from asking him whether these were his own beliefs or that of his father's. I recalled how negatively he had reacted earlier when I suggested he was allowing Samuel to influence him.

"If I were to submit to this punishment," Carlisle continued, "it would be mortifying. I know that is part of the punishment, but I do not believe I can do it. I do not believe I can give up control to you," he whispered emotionally.

"Oh darling," I finally responded as I bent his head down so that our foreheads were touching, "thank you so much for telling me all this. I know how difficult it must have been for you, and I truly appreciate the trust you have shown me."

"Esme, I"—he began to speak despairingly but I placed my finger on his lips as I quietly shushed him. "We have said enough for now," I stated softly. "Right now, I really _need_ you to go hunt Carlisle," I spoke, giving him a pleading look. "We both need some time apart to digest what we have discussed, and I know you will feel better if you hunt. Please darling, go."

He looked at me with his black eyes full of agony and shame. I had no idea what he was thinking right now as his pain masked everything. I hoped to God he would just agree with me. Finally, after several tense seconds he gave a slow, tired nod.

"I will go hunting," he murmured before pulling away from me. I watched as he walked towards the front door, and right as he opened it a moment of panic hit me.

"Wait!" I called out as I rushed over and grabbed onto his forearm. He turned back to me with a questioning look.

"You will come back," I said, wanting it to come out as a statement, but it ended up sounding like a desperate plea.

Carlisle stared at me with an inscrutable look before his eyes softened and he placed a hand over my own. "Of course," he assured me with the barest of smiles, and I gave him a large one of my own before letting him go.

"Take all the time you need," I then said, suddenly feeling ridiculous for my idiotic moment of doubt.

Carlisle's gaze showed understanding, and for a moment it was as though he were his old self again as he lovingly told me, "My heart belongs to you, Esme. It always has and always will." And with that, he turned and ran into the forest. I stared after him, holding a hand to my chest as I closed the door. Taking a few steps inside, I finally allowed some of my anguish to leave me as tears cascaded down my cheeks. Sobs overtook me at this point, and I slid down to the floor and wept.

**A/N: **So Esme is finally getting through to her stubborn husband. Finally! That guy can be more thickheaded than all the kids put together, haha! Prepare yourself for the next chapter because there's going to be a the first of 3 flashback scenes concerning a single memory of Carlisle's, and it isn't going to be pretty.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Twilight or any of its amazing, sexy characters!

**Warning:** This story contains _**disciplinary spanking**_ so if this bothers you, then _**don't read or flame me**_!

**A/N:**

There's going to be a flashback scene between Carlisle and his father. Old English escapes me so I'm not going to embarrass myself by even attempting to write it. For that reason they will be speaking in modern English. Also, this memory is dark, and if you thought Carlisle was out of character before, well...just remember that he was human and 19 and...well, I guess I'll just let you read. goes and hides under the covers

**Chapter 7: Choice**

**Carlisle's POV:**

I ran through the forest, taking deep breaths to try and calm myself. My anger and guilt were overwhelming, and I was finding it very difficult to rid myself of those crippling emotions. Now that I was no longer in Esme's presence I could once more feel the ache of loneliness, and numbness threatened to overtake me. I was quickly sinking into a black hole.

I stopped running and placed a steadying hand against a tree as my breaths came out in short gasps. I hurt, and I searched for a way to stop it, to end it. Allowing the numbness and emptiness to come back was the only way I knew how to cope. By shutting my emotions off I could attain a bit of respite.

I did not want to hunt anymore as it would only clear my head. I did not want to see my obvious errors in anymore clarity than I already did.

I leaned my head against the tree and began to feel rain drops land on me. The wind was blowing and the light rain came at me from all directions. I shivered, not from cold but from the feelings a suddenly resurfaced memory brought to me…

…_ Thunder boomed and the wind howled fiercely as a light, cold drizzle began to descend, but neither one of us paid it any mind. _

_ I was standing straight and tall with my head held up high. The woman gripped onto my left arm tightly and I placed my body between her and my father who began to slowly circle around me like a predator stalking its prey. My expression was impassive, but inside I was furious, furious at myself and furious at my father._

_ I had been a complete fool to think I could get away with this. I should have known better. I knew that my luck would not be able to hold forever, and I had been right. _

_ Ever since I was fourteen I had known my father was a fraud. Oh, I am sure he truly believed he was doing God's work, but in his zest to be the best he no longer cared if the person or persons he sentenced to death were guilty or not. He told me he could tell with a single look that the accused were guilty, and no amount of evidence supporting the opposite would sway him. That was bull. I knew this because I had tried several times to change his mind, and every time ended the same way. I would be harshly dismissed and then soundly beaten for allowing "the Devil" to use me._

_ It took several beatings and one unsuccessful attempt at running away before I decided I would have to take matters into my own hands. I would learn to bite my tongue. Outwardly I would become the obedient son, but inwardly I would work against him. I would save the lives of those innocent men, women, and children he was so intent on murdering._

_ It had not been easy at first. Hiding my true feelings from my father and learning to hold my tongue had been extremely difficult. I had managed though and the older I got the easier it became. Lying came naturally to me now. I knew exactly what to say and how to act to pacify the pastor. I knew how to put a smile on my face and be nothing but polite when in the inside I was howling in rage. I had learned to fool my father._

_ By becoming the son he wanted me to be I gained his trust, what little trust he gave anyone, and I gained certain freedoms. I played my part so well Samuel even claimed to be proud of the man I was becoming. I'll admit, there was a part of me that basked in and craved that pride and acceptance, but a larger part of me squashed that childish need. Samuel Cullen was a cruel, sadistic monster, and his pride was poison. _

_ With the trust and freedom I had earned I was able to save many lives; not all of them, of course, but enough to help quell some of the guilt I felt for all the lives I had helped destroy. I had rescued a few dozen people, helping them escape and no one had been the wiser. My father was of course infuriated by all the people that had managed to escape, but he always blamed the townspeople or claimed the witch or devil used its powers to aid in their escape. In the beginning my father suspected me, but I played my part so well I quickly dispelled his suspicions. As the years bore on he stopped suspecting me, until recently that is._

_ I had grown careless, overconfident in my success, and all it took was one mistake for the pastor to figure it all out. My father was many things, but a fool was not one of them. That mistake happened yesterday. There had been a woman, Sarah, here in London accused of witchcraft. She had apparently bewitched a man into marrying her or some ridiculous notion like that. One look at her pale, terrified face and I knew she was innocent. My father had obviously disagreed and immediately sentenced her to burn the next day. They had taken her away at that point, and I had assumed they had taken her to the courthouse prison._

_ I had been wrong though and my mistake came when I inquired to my father where they had taken her. His face closed off for a second before he had answered me, and my first clue that something was wrong should have been when he did not ask me why I wanted to know this information. My second clue should have been when he told me he had moved up the women's execution to tonight. He had never done this before, and there was no reason to be doing so. I knew better than to question him though. My third and final clue came when he told me to retrieve the woman and bring her to the town square. Once again, he had never done this before. Although I had gained his trust, my father still never left me alone with the accused because he feared my weakness of character would once more make me vulnerable to their wicked ways. Once again, I did not question him though as I saw this as an opportunity. I could free Sarah and claim she had already been gone by the time I got there._

_ Things had not gone according to plan. I had snuck into the prison easily enough, making sure not to be spotted and I had freed Sarah. It had taken quite a bit of persuasion to get her to trust me as she knew who I was, or more importantly who my father was. Anyways, after finally convincing her that I was there to help, she followed me out. Night had just fallen and provided excellent cover as I led her towards the forest where I had food, money, and a map hidden for her. Just as we reached the edge of the woods though, my father followed by two men walked out and stopped right in front of us. It seemed they had been lying in wait for us. _

_ "Did you truly believe I did not know?" Samuel asked in a silky tone as he continued to circle me. "Did you truly believe you would get away with this?" _

_ I said nothing as I continued to stare straight ahead._

_ Samuel finally stopped walking and stood before me with crossed arms. "I asked you a question Boy," he stated softly with the barest hint of warning._

_ I responded with an unconcerned shrug and was gratified to see his jaw clench and his muscles flex in anger. I felt vindictive pleasure in riling him up. I knew it was idiotic of me because it would only worsen my upcoming punishment, but at the moment I didn't really care. _

_ When he managed to gain control of his obvious anger, he took a step forward and looked me straight in the eyes. Sarah trembled in fear and I tried to reassure her by tightening my grip; however, I knew my reassurances were futile as I would not be able to save her. That thought alone tore through me. _

_ I had failed. My arrogance would not only cost this woman her life, but the lives of all those future people I could have saved. Samuel would never trust me again. He would probably kill me if it were not for the fact that some people would frown upon such an action; not to mention the embarrassment it would cause him. As it was, my future was not looking too bright at this moment. _

_ "Give her to me," Samuel ordered, holding out his hand. Sarah's grip tightened even more as I took a step backwards. My eyes flicked in all directions looking for any possible escape route, but my father's men made escape impossible. I would not be able to fight them off and protect the woman. _

_ "Hand the witch over now and your punishment will be lighter," he demanded more insistently, his anger finally showing through._

_ I had to fight back the insane urge to laugh at his words. Lighter punishment? After what I had just done I supposed that meant I would still be alive after he was through with me. _

_ "No," I told him softly as I took another step away from him._

_ "No?" he questioned in a quiet, yet menacing tone as he took a step towards me._

_ "No," I stated more firmly as I gave him a challenging stare. My heart was pounding as I desperately tried to figure a way out of this, but I was trapped. _

_ "Carlisle Cullen!" my father snapped authoritatively as he took another step forward and got in my face. "You will do as I say or suffer the consequences," he threatened._

_ "You will not touch this woman," I spoke back just as authoritatively. "She is innocent and if you would just"—_

_ "SILENCE!" he suddenly roared as he gave me a vicious backhand to the face. I gave a grunt as I stumbled, nearly losing my balance from the sheer force of the blow. "You dare speak to me"—_

_ "Yes, I dare!" I yelled back defiantly. "You claim to be doing the bidding of God, but you are nothing more than a MURDERER! This woman is innocent," I tried to say again, but he held up a threatening hand and I could not help but flinch and fall silent. I cursed my weakness, especially when I saw the spark of triumph in the pastor's eye. He thought he'd won._

_ "You will hold your tongue!" he spat furiously before motioning for his two companions, Thomas and Frederick to come and take Sarah from me. I was readying myself to attempt to fight them off when Samuel pulled out his pistol and pointed it at me. I froze as I stared at him in utter bewilderment, and my frozen state easily allowed Thomas and Frederick to pull Sarah away from me even though she struggled wildly. I watched as she screamed and fought with them, but they quickly beat her into submission. I took an unconscious step forward to intervene, only to freeze once more when I heard the click of a pistol being cocked. Once more I stared at my father in shock. Would he really pull the trigger? Would he really kill me, his own son? The look he gave me was cold and hateful, and I suddenly realized with a sickening feeling that he really would. My own father would kill me for interfering in his work._

_ Once Sarah stopped fighting, the men tied her hands behind her back before tying a cloth around her mouth to keep her quiet. They shoved her down to her knees before pulling out their own pistols and aiming them at her. Sarah's green eyes stared up at me, pleading with me to save her, to do _something_. My mind raced and raced for a solution, but in my heart I knew she was dead. In my heart I knew that I had failed._

_ "Carlisle," father called softly, and I stiffly turned my head towards him, a foreboding feeling hitting me at the malicious smirk he now bore. "I understand, my son," he crooned in sudden kindness that sent shivers up my spine. "I understand you are weak to the ways of the devil. That is why I gave you this test. You failed, but you may redeem yourself in my eyes if you do this one thing. Kill her, Carlisle. Kill her yourself, and you will have God's forgiveness." My eyes widened in horror at his words, several thoughts running through my mind. The first thing I thought was that he could not be serious. He could not truly expect me to kill this woman in cold blood—to shoot her down like a dog. Secondly, he lied. No matter what I did, I would _never_ redeem myself in his eyes. Thirdly, it did not escape my notice that he said I would receive _God's _forgiveness but not his. I had no doubt whether or not I killed this woman, he was still going to express his displeasure with me when this was all over with. _

_ "Take the pistol, Carlisle," my father urged, his voice deepening to convey how serious he was._

_ Sarah immediately started protesting, her pleads unintelligible due to the gag around her mouth. I glanced over at her to see tears falling fast down her face as she silently begged me not to do this. Save me, please Carlisle, save me, her eyes seemed to say, and my heart tore._

_ "I will not," I finally managed to choke out as I looked back at Samuel. His eyes immediately hardened, and what little kindness there was vanished. He looked at me with disgust and fury, and the little boy inside me that still yearned for his love and approval broke down. I let him down, he screamed. I let him down! I failed!_

_ "Take the pistol Carlisle," father ordered as he grabbed my left hand and slammed the pistol into it. He forced my fingers to curl around it before letting go, his eyes warning me that if I dropped it I would not enjoy the consequences. The pistol felt cold and heavy, and I wanted nothing more than to get rid of it. _

_ A wild thought ran through my mind at this point as I openly glared at Samuel. My hand tightened around the gun, and I had the sudden urge to kill, not the woman, but him. I could end my suffering with one bullet. One little pull of the trigger and he would never hurt me again. I would be free, free to do as I pleased. Free of fear. Free of _him_. _

_ A cold feeling settled in the pit of my stomach at this horrid thought. Samuel stared me straight in the eyes with a challenging look as though he knew what I was thinking. He raised a questioning eyebrow._

_ Do it, a part of me thought. Do it and be rid of him! You know you want to! Kill him! KILL HIM!_

_ NO! No, I will _not_. I am not a murderer and no matter what he has done, I cannot kill him. I cannot kill my father._

_ I briefly closed my eyes, and when I opened them I noticed Samuel sporting a smirk. He knew what had happened. He knew what I had been thinking._

_ "Weak," he muttered with a shake of his head before pointing towards Sarah. "You have five seconds Carlisle to kill her before I allow Frederick and Thomas to do so, and you can bet that you will watch." He said nothing more as nothing more was needed. I knew what those two men were capable of. I'd seen them in the act before. They would make Sarah suffer. They would torture her and jeer at her screams of agony. Her death would be long and drawn out, slow and painful._

_ "Five," my father counted. I stared between him and Sarah, panic seeping from my every pore._

_ "Four." My heart began to pound rapidly, sweat forcing me to grip the pistol tighter so that it would not fall. I couldn't do this. I _could not_ do this. She was innocent! She did not deserve this! How cold you be so heartless Father? How could you be so cruel and uncaring?_

_ "Three." But what else could I do? I could not save her. I had already failed at that. If I did not kill her myself then she would suffer at the hands of sadists. I would make it quick. _

_ "Two." I stared down at Sarah, and she stared back at me. Her eyes now showed defeat and hatred as she gave me a defiant glare. She knew I was not going to save her. She knew I had decided. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I am _not_ a murderer! _

_ "One." I am so sorry, I thought before lifting the pistol and pulling the trigger._

_ BANG!_

_ A horribly sickening sound was heard as blood, bone, and brain matter splattered all over the ground, the two men, and me. Sarah's face was horribly disfigured from where the bullet had hit, and she stood still on her knees until Thomas shoved her, causing her to fall to the ground with a resounding thud. I began to tremble, the gun dropping from my hand and landing right next to Sarah's still form. _

_ What. Have. I. Done? I felt sick, and I had to swallow back the rising bile. This did not just happen. This could not have just happened! I just killed this woman. I just _killed_ an innocent woman! My breaths began to come in short gasps, and I could feel myself falling apart. What have I done? How could I have done this?! There had to have been another way!_

_ Thunder boomed and the slow drizzling rain quickly turned into a downpour. I was soaked to the bone in seconds, but that did not matter. My gaze remained locked on Sarah, the memory of her last expression forever etched in my mind. _

_ "Well done, my son," Samuel praised as he clapped his hand onto my shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "I am proud of you," he stated, and I felt even more sickened. This is what it would take to make him proud of me? This is what I had to become to gain his approval—his _love_? _

_ Cold, hot fury began to build bubble up inside of me and I all too happily allowed it to spread as it was easier to deal with than the crushing guilt and despair I had been feeling. _

_ Samuel finally lifted his hand off of me as he took a step towards his loyal dogs. "Dispose of this filth," he ordered as he toed the corpse with his boot, "And make sure I am not disturbed for the rest of the night and tomorrow. It seems I once more need to teach my son a lesson on obedience and respect."_

_ My fists clenched tightly at his words and I gritted my teeth as the men muttered their understandings. They lifted Sarah's body as though it were nothing more than a sack of grain, and I once more fought back the urge to vomit as I caught sight of her mutilated face. I did that. I caused that._

_ No, another part of me hissed venomously. _He _did it. _Samuel_ caused this. He is responsible, and he alone! I will make him pay for this!_

_ Father turned back towards me and his eyebrows lifted in surprise before narrowing as he caught my hateful glare. Taking a step towards me, he spoke in a low, chilling tone as he said, "With the beating you have coming Boy, I recommend you get that look off your face this instant."_

_ Normally this was the point where I backed down, but not today. I was filled with reckless courage, and all I wanted to do was hurt this man. I wanted to hurt him as badly if not worse than he had hurt me, and nothing and no one was going to stop me._

_ "Make me," I responded smoothly, sporting a vicious sneer when his expression turned taken aback. He quickly regained control though and sported a furious look._

_ "Why you little demon, I am going to make you wish you had never been born," he spat, his face beet red from sheer anger._

_ "Too late," I quipped with a smirk before shoving him away and punching him as hard as I could with my right fist._

_ "Arrghh!" he yelled out in pain and surprise, and I felt extreme satisfaction when I noticed he was bleeding from his mouth. He spat out blood before wiping at his mouth and giving me a look of such utter loathing that I could not help but feel a trickle of fear._

_ "You will regret that," he stated simply, and I gave a humorless chuckle before we both launched ourselves at each other…_

…The loud crack of lightening and the crash of a tree pulled my mind back to the present and I found myself breathing in short gasps as I fought to control the wild emotions coursing through me. Horror was the most predominant feeling. How could I have forgotten this? How could I have forgotten killing a woman in cold blood? Just as in the memory, my biggest thought was, 'what had I done?'

This memory could not have chosen a worse time to have resurfaced I thought fleetingly before letting out a snarl as I punched through the tree I had been leaning against. Why? Why was I remembering this all now? Why did I have to remember the cruelty of my father at this moment? Was it because I had acted like him?

_You are weak Carlisle, and you will _always_ fail! How I wish it had been you who had died instead of my beloved Rebecca!_

I cringed as my father's words echoed through my mind.

_Weak. Pathetic. Coward. Abomination. Failure._

Shut up, shut up, shut up! I mentally bellowed as I let out a ferocious growl and destroyed another tree.

I breathed in and out heavily gripping my head in my hands before sinking to the ground.

Calm down Carlisle, calm down. Breathe. In and out. In and out. In and out. In and out.

I repeated this mantra over and over in my head until I felt my anger leave me. I felt no better though as it was just replaced with overwhelming sadness and guilt. I felt a strong need to cry and scream, but I bottled it all in.

_Crying is for women and children, Carlisle_.

I know father, I know.

_You are a disgrace and a disappointment, and I should have killed you the day you were born!_ My father raged, and I shook my head before giving a loud growl and yelling, "SHUT UP!" My father finally fell silent, and I pressed my hands to my eyes to hold back the tears of hurt and fury.

My God Carlisle, you truly are a mess. Esme was right, you are not yourself.

_Esme_, _Oh Esme_. My dear, sweet, forgiving, and loving wife. What have I done to you? You should be furious with me. You should hate me, yet you do not. You said you forgave me and that you loved me. You said that the children forgave me and that they loved me. How could this be? How could you all have forgiven me after what I did? How could you all still love me? How could you still trust me to be your father, your husband?

I did not deserve any of you. You were all too forgiving. I deserved to suffer for what I did. I deserved to be punished.

I groaned out loud at that thought, my wife's suggestion finally coming to the forefront.

A spanking. That was the punishment she suggested. Embarrassment flooded through me at the mere thought of submitting to such a punishment. Esme had done a wonderful job of reminding me how effective a spanking was at relieving guilt, but still…Esme was my wife! She was my equal and, well, she was a woman. How could I submit to her?

Did I think myself better than her? I just said she was my equal, yet it seemed there was a part of me that felt I was superior.

We were equals in the family sense, but in the vampire sense I was the coven leader, and the coven leader had no equal.

Was this a coven matter though?

Well, no. No, this was not a coven matter. This was a family matter.

Then what was the problem? I acknowledged that I deserved punishment. I acknowledged that I broke a family rule, and that had any of the children broken the rule they would receive a spanking. Should I not be subject to the same punishment? Should I not be held accountable for what I had done? I was the father, so I should in fact be held even more accountable.

I growled lowly in frustration. Why was the thought of submitting to a spanking so terrible for me? I knew I more than deserved it. I knew it would definitely help my guilt.

Why could I not handle this guilt on my own though? I truly was behaving as Jasper had, I thought to myself. I had been forgiven, but I was unable to forgive myself because I felt undeserving.

I had to do it. I had to submit. It was the only way I would ever be able to forgive myself, and the only way I would ever be able to look my children—look Emmett in the eye as I asked for their forgiveness.

I gripped my hair tightly and gritted my teeth. What the bloody hell was I thinking? How could I ask this of my wife—my wife who abhorred ever physically chastising our children—my wife who took days to forgive herself after those few times she had spanked one of her cubs. How could I ask her to spank me?

Ugh, how could I _submit_? For the spanking to be effective I would have to give up complete control to my wife. I would have to put myself at her mercy. Could I do that? Could I allow my wife to see me in such a weakened position—such a weakened state? Would I be able to give in and cry knowing that she would see all this?

Did I trust Esme?

With my life.

But did I trust her with my emotional wellbeing? Did I trust that she would be able to go through with this? Did I trust that she would catch me—that she would keep me from drowning?

Guilt tore through me at the fact that I was even asking myself this. Of course I did! Esme was my heart and soul. She was my rock. Without her I was nothing. If I could not trust Esme, then I could not trust anyone.

Butterflies erupted in my stomach and I found myself suddenly feeling an anxiety I had not felt in three centuries. Was I truly considering this? Was I truly considering allowing my wife to spank me?

I let out a shaky laugh at the mere thought. This was ridiculous! Preposterous! There had to be another way.

I blinked at that thought before grinning slightly. Was I trying to get out of this? Good god, it was as though I were regressing. I knew I deserved this punishment so why was I continuing to fight it?

Man up Carlisle, I chastised myself harshly. You are not a child so quit acting like it!

If I am not a child then why am I considering subjecting myself to a child's punishment?

A spanking is no mere child's punishment and you know it. You use it on your children, yes, but they are technically all adults and they would all agree that it is nothing to scoff about. Besides, in your time and theirs spankings were not unheard of for people their physical age, and even yours. Samuel certainly would have had no qualms with disciplining you despite your twenty-three years.

True, but I am nearly 300 hundred years old now…

And Jasper is over a century old yet he is still subject to this punishment. Will you stop spanking him?

No, but Esme will never look at me the same. She will not be able to respect me if I submit to this punishment. I will never be able to look her in the eyes. I am her husband. I am meant to be strong, and in control—

Yes, and you have been doing a marvelous job at that, haven't you? Your little discussion with Esme should be proof enough that you are far from in control. Your mood swings made you look more akin to a teenage girl on her menstrual cycle than a grown man.

I snorted at that ridiculous thought before rubbing my hand over my face. I was so mentally worn out, and I wished to God that I could just sleep to escape my mental turmoil.

_Coward_.

I hissed at that thought. I was _not_ a coward!

Then quit trying to run away from what you did and face it like a man!

I faced my wife! I told her everything I did and left nothing out. I told her of how I abused our son, and I told her of how there was a part of me that enjoyed it.

Guilt tore through me at the memory and I groaned as I buried my head in my hands. Oh, what have I done? _What have I done_? How could I have lost my temper with my own child? How could I have been so irresponsible? I _promised_ Emmett and the others that I would _never_ raise a hand to them out of anger, and I broke that promise. How would they ever trust me?

They have forgiven you though. Esme said that they all want you to come home.

But why? How? What I did was unforgivable. They should want nothing more to do with me! They should cast me out! I am a failure—

"Carlisle?" a voice called out tentatively, and I immediately glanced up as I recognized my wife's voice

"Esme," I spoke in a soft, dull voice. She gazed at me in loving concern as she slowly walked towards me. She knelt on the ground in front of me and reached out a hand to cup my cheek.

She looked at me closely, and I could tell right away she did not like what she saw. "What has happened? Are you alright?" she questioned in worry.

I gave her a confused look. "Nothing has happened," I responded, but she just shook her head at me.

"_Something_ happened to you since we last spoke, I can tell. Your eyes, your voice, your entire demeanor is telling me that something happened," Esme argued giving me a pleading look to open up to her. I thought about telling her of the memory but then decided not to. She did not need to know how weak and pathetic I was. Besides, it was not as though she could do anything to change the past. My wife stared at me clearly waiting for me to open up to her, but when I didn't she just closed her eyes and let out a sigh. I saw the brief look of hurt that passed over her face, but she forcefully shoved it aside, and when she opened her eyes all I saw was love, frustration, and disappointment. I felt like an absolute cad, but not enough to change my mind.

"You were supposed to have been hunting," she remarked, exasperation and disapproval clear in her tone and face although she tried to hide it.

"I no longer felt like it," I responded in the same dull tone, and she let out a tired sigh as she shook her head.

"Carlisle, my love," she began, "I have never seen your eyes so black. That coupled with your temperament are clear signs that you are in dire need of blood, so why do you allow yourself to suffer? The pain in your throat must be agonizing, so why not hunt?"

"I am fine," I told her, and I felt triumph when I saw anger flash in her golden eyes. Good, she should be angry with me.

"Carlisle Cullen, you are anything but fine, so I would appreciate it if you would not lie to me!" she hissed as she wrapped her hand around the back of my neck. "You have never been this far from fine in all the years I have known you. Your eyes are pitch black, your hair and clothes unkempt, and your expression vacant and lifeless. Your emotions vary from fury to guilt, back and forth like a pendulum. You are hurting, my husband, and I can see that as clear as day yet you refuse to let me in. You refuse to allow me to help you. You seek only to anger me, and as much as I try to fight it, I cannot," she huffed irritably.

"You should be angry with me," I said, and she let out a growl as she tightened her hold on me.

"Believe me Carlisle, I am angry with you, but my love far outweighs it," she declared as she stared into my eyes with a passionate look. I made to turn my head away but she forced me to maintain eye contact with her by placing her other hand on my left cheek.

"I can see how much you are hurting Carlisle. I can see how much guilt you feel over what happened and how that guilt is tearing you apart. You have no idea how to cope with what you have done. You cannot forgive yourself even though everyone else has. You seek to anger me in hopes that I will hurt you as you hurt Emmett because you feel that is the only way to atone for what you did," she stated softly, and I could not refute her words as they were nothing but the truth. I had been purposefully antagonizing her in the hopes that she would unleash her rage on me. I deserved to suffer just as—no, I deserved to suffer more than my son had.

"I will never hurt you in the manner you seek. I am not your father," she said gently, and I could not help but jerk away from her grasp with an angry hiss. She gave me a startled look that I ignored as I stood up and walked a few paces away from her. I found myself feeling suddenly upset with my wife, although I didn't really know why. Was it because she mentioned Samuel?

"Carlisle," Esme called hesitantly as she placed a hand on my arm to get me to turn around. I obliged, although I gave her a stony look. She gazed up at me with searching eyes full of worry, hurt, and love, and after several moments she caught me off guard when she wrapped her arms around me tightly. I stiffened at the hold, and tried to pull away. I did not want to be comforted. I did not deserve to be comforted. My wife's hold was unyielding though, and since I did not want to hurt her I eventually gave in and relaxed into her embrace.

"I love you more than you could ever know Carlisle Cullen," she declared. "You are my salvation. After what Charles did to me and after my infant son died you were there for me. I was broken, in body, mind, and soul, and you put me back together. You taught me how to live again, and how to enjoy living. You showed me love and compassion when I thought myself undeserving, and you were patient and understanding as I coped with the trauma of my past and the difficulties of being a newborn," she explained as she looked me straight in the eyes. "You never left me, and you never gave up on me. You healed me, Carlisle. You made me whole again, and now I am going to ask you to allow me to repay the favor."

I closed my eyes and bowed my head at her words, extremely touched by everything she had said. She held me in such high regard. She attributed too much to me. "Thank you for your kind words Esme," I finally spoke after I opened my eyes, "but you give me too much credit. You are a strong woman, and while I helped, it was you who healed yourself. You did not need me then, and you do not need"—

My words were cut short as Esme placed her mouth on mine. Her kiss was full of passion, need, and overwhelming love, and after a moment of surprise I found myself all too eagerly returning the kiss. Her arms wrapped around my neck and she gripped a fistful of my hair as she pulled me closer. My own arms wrapped around her waist tightly as I soaked in all the love and comfort she offered me. Normally a kiss of such passion would lead to more pleasurable activities, but now was not the time, so when we finally broke apart for some unneeded air I just leaned my forehead against hers and said a quiet, "I love you."

"I love you more," she responded with a sly look, and I smiled weakly.

"I meant every word I said Carlisle," she stated. "Never doubt my love for you and never doubt the positive impact you have had on my life. You are always there for me to lean on when I am troubled, and now it is your turn to lean on me. I will be your rock."

I took several shaky breaths as I contemplated everything Esme had told me. She was offering me help, so why was I so hesitant to accept it?

Because I should be able to handle this on my own.

Did I expect her or the children to deal with their problems alone?

No, but you are their father, their husband, and their leader. You are not granted the same luxuries.

Is that true though?

What was so wrong about asking for help? Was this really me speaking or my father?

I mentally bristled at the mere thought of that vile man. Ugh, why was I allowing him to rile me up so much? How could he still have such an effect on me? I thought I had overcome my issues with him long ago.

I cannot do this alone. I cannot deal with my guilt on my own. I am sorry if that makes me weak, but I really need help.

"Esme," I finally stated in a quiet, despairing voice, "I need your help."

**A/N:** Uh...yeah...kind of nervous about this chapter, especially since there's two more segments to this dreaded memory. Yeah, sad, dark, sick, horrible...what do you think? PLEASE REVIEW!


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:**I don't own Twilight

**Warning:**This story contains _**disciplinary spanking**_, so _**don't read or flame**_ if that offends you.

**A/N: **Haven't red my reviews so I have no idea whether the last chapter was well received or not. Hopefully it was...Anyhow, I threatened Cumor that if she didn't put up an update to Dark Justice today that I wasn't going to update my story. Thankfully for you and her she came through, so I decided to put this update now! Thanks Cumor!

On an unrelated note, working on my next story and I can't remember where the Cullens go during their absence from Forks during New Moon. It's Alaska, right?

**Chapter 8: Prepare**

**Carlisle's POV:**

_"Esme," I finally stated in a quiet, despairing voice, "I need your help."_

Her answering smile was wide and beautiful as she captured my lips with hers, and somehow that made me feel better. I didn't know what it was about this woman, but she had ways of lighting up even the darkest of hearts with a single smile.

"You're right," I stated sadly after we broke apart, and she gave me a curious look.

"My guilt is overpowering, and I have no idea how to cope with it. I understand that you have forgiven me, and I acknowledge the possibility that the Emmett may have as well, but I am unable to forgive myself. I don't deserve forgiveness and I don't deserve your trust," I said shamefully.

"I can help you with that Carlisle," Esme responded as she lovingly caressed the back of my head. "If it is punishment you seek, then I will provide it. You need only ask."

I grimaced. It was punishment I sought, but I still could not help but scoff at the idea of a spanking. It was the boy inside me that scoffed for the father inside me knew very well how effective a punishment it really was. The father in me recalled all the times it had proved beneficial and helpful with my children. The boy seemed to be taking charge though as the father retreated in shame, unable to confront what he had done.

"You would make me ask for it," I questioned quietly, and she nodded her head.

"I am not your mother Carlisle, I am your wife. Were you one of the children I would not give you a choice; but you are not my child so I would never presume to force punishment on you," she explained. "You must decide whether you need this, not I. I told you before that I did not come here to punish you. I only suggested the punishment because I could see after speaking with you that it was what you felt you needed to overcome what had happened. So, the choice is yours."

I mulled over her words, suddenly feeling unsure. Is this really what I wanted, or needed? Could I really find no other alternative to overcoming my guilt?

"What else can I do to deal with my guilt, Esme?" I asked her desperately.

"I do not know, my love," she responded with a sad shake of her head. "This is something that must come from within you. I have given you my forgiveness, but I cannot force you to forgive yourself. Only you can do that."

"You do not feel I deserve to be punished?" I then asked, and she let out a sigh.

"That is not for me to decide," she told me in a firm tone, and I gave her a bewildered look as I responded, "But when we spoke earlier you were trying to convince me to accept a sp—to accept your punishment." If I were human I would have been blushing. I now understood my children's aversion to using the word spanking as I too could not force myself to use it when referring to my own punishment. I groaned internally as Esme smirked in amusement as she no doubt realized why I had stuttered.

"Carlisle," she replied, serious once more, "I was not trying to convince you to submit to a spanking, I was trying to convince you that a spanking could help you. You were being quite obstinate and childish," she informed me with a slightly apologetic look, and I lowered my eyes in shame.

"I apologize," I mumbled sincerely as I too recalled my embarrassing display of temper and pure pig-headedness. "I acted as the children"—

"Worse than the children," Esme interjected, and I flicked my eyes back up to her as I protested, "Surely not"—

"Oh yes, my dear," she interjected once more in a firm tone. "The children know when to give in. The children know how to listen; and while they may be bull-headed at times, you have taken the crown. You have all our boys' worst traits, but amplified. You feel undeserving of forgiveness like Jasper, you feel yourself a monster like Edward, and you are afraid to appear weak like Emmett."

I opened and then closed my mouth as I was unsure of how to respond to that. I could once more feel frustration building up inside of me and I didn't know why. I suppose I was just frustrated with this whole situation. I was angry, hurt, overwhelmingly guilty, and I just wanted the pain to go away. I fought desperately the urge to lash out once more in a childish need to make Esme feel as miserable as I. When I really stopped to think about it I realized how childish I was acting. One would almost think I was my physical age or even younger rather than a three century old man.

"What are you thinking Carlisle?" Esme asked, interrupting my thoughts.

"I am frustrated," I admitted, and she nodded her head before asking me why.

I let out an irritated huff as I shook my head and shrugged my shoulders.

My wife just stared at me with an unreadable expression, her eyes surveying me. I wondered what she was looking for.

"Why do you refuse to hunt?" she finally pressed, and when I failed to answer she continued speaking. "You would never allow anyone's thirst in our family to get to the point it has with you, so why do you still refuse? You know you need it. You know it is a large reason you are having trouble controlling your emotions—a large reason you lost your temper with Emmett, yet you are still adamant you are fine. You know that is a lie. I know that is a lie, so who are you trying to fool? Is it as I mentioned just a moment ago—an idiotic attempt at causing yourself to suffer because you feel you deserve to?"

I searched for an appropriate answer, but Esme was no longer feeling patient with me. "Answer me Carlisle because I am truly trying to understand. You are infuriating me with your obtuseness, and your adamancy that you are fine while at the same time not. If I am to help you I need you to be a little more open with me."

I sighed before glancing around me in a lost manner. "I—Esme, I am sorry, but I myself do not understand why I am acting like this. I am feeling all these overwhelmingly negative emotions and I am fighting the urge to lash out or burst into tears. I am hurting, and I just want it to go away. I just want forget and to not feel anymore," I confessed dejectedly.

Her eyes flashed at my words, and I unconsciously found myself taking a step away from her as she snapped, "Escaping is not the answer! You must face what you did head on instead of trying to forget it and hope that it goes away. Those are the words of a boy Carlisle, which you are not. Be a man, accept what you have done and deal with it! Do not be a coward," she lectured, and this time it was my eyes that flashed as I let out an angry growl.

"_Do not call me a coward_!" I roared harshly as I got up in her face and glared. A growl rumbled in my chest as I stared her down, but apart from a moment of shock, her expression showed no fear as she met my glare with one of her own.

"Then do not act like one," she hissed quietly, and I trembled with sudden rage, baring my teeth at her in a threatening manner. There was a part of me that knew I was overreacting, but I just couldn't help it. I _hated_, and I mean truly _abhorred_ being called a coward. I had my faults, and I would happily name them if asked, but a coward was _not_ one of them.

Esme stared at me somewhat uncomprehendingly, no doubt surprised by how angry she had made me. She thankfully remained silent, allowing me time to close my eyes and take several desperately needed calming breaths. When I had some semblance of control over myself I opened my eyes to see Esme looking at me with sad eyes.

"I'm sorry," I told her hoarsely, and she just nodded her head.

"Did I frighten you?" I then asked in a small voice, and she answered with a smile as she said, "No, of course not. I trust you Carlisle, and I know you would _never_ physically harm me, whether intentionally or unintentionally."

My heart warmed at her trust, yet I could not return her smile. "I should not have reacted so strongly, I don't"—

"Hush now," my wife ordered with a finger on my lips and an exasperated shake of her head. "You are under an extreme amount of emotional duress, and you have not hunted in who knows how long. Your lack of control is unsurprising when you take all that into account, so no need for the apology. I, on the other hand do need to apologize. I should not have scolded you so harshly. I know you are not a coward, but I too am frustrated by this situation so I spoke in anger," she apologized remorsefully.

I let out a tired sigh as my anger once more left me. I was so mentally exhausted. I should hunt. Why have I not hunted? Is it as Esme has said—Was I looking for ways to cause myself to suffer? Was I punishing myself by doing this? The more I thought about it the more I realized I was. I really was seeking any form of punishment to help alleviate this overbearing guilt. Why though? Why did I feel I needed punishment to overcome this? Why could I not deal with this on my own?

Because I crossed a forbidden line. I failed in my duties as a father, and I too deserved to suffer as my boy had. I needed to atone for my sins, and I needed the children to know that I too was subject to the same family rules. I may be their father and coven leader, but that did not put me above the rules…or above punishment should I break the rules.

A shudder passed through my body at this thought. Oh God, I was really going to do it. I was going to ask my wife to spank me. I pinched the bridge of my nose as I tried to muster up the needed courage to ask this of my wife. I was not a coward. I was not a coward. Esme looked at me in curiosity, somehow sensing that I had come to a decision.

"Esme, love," I finally managed to choke out, "I, um, I need you to—would you…" I gave a nervous swallow before taking in a huge breath. I am _not a coward_! Okay, I can do this.

"Esme," I began once more in a steady tone, "I have already explained to you my incapability in coping with my guilt. I feel I cannot atone for what happened without punishment, and so I ask you now if you could please punish me so that I may be able to forgive myself." There, I said it.

I waited with bated breath for my wife's response. It was not what I expected though when she gave a sly smirk and said, "Punish how?"

Oh, you little she-devil I thought in growing embarrassment. She was going to make me say it! Courage Carlisle! Courage!

"Would you spank me?" I asked her, certain my cheeks must have been red despite the fact that it was impossible.

Thankfully, Esme's amusement quickly faded as she gave me a searching gaze before nodding her head. "I think you made the right choice Carlisle, so well done," she praised, and my mouth fell open as I gave her a bewildered look.

"What—but—you—I don't understand," I managed to stammer, and my wife raised a questioning eyebrow at me. "You feel I deserve this yet earlier when I asked you, you told me it was not your decision to make, and you sounded as though you only considered the punishment to help me."

Esme smiled kindly before saying, "I do feel you deserve this, but I was not going to tell you that because I did not want to influence your decision. You had to decide this all on your own. And I meant it when I said I only considered this punishment to help you. When I came to find you it was with the intentions of talking about what happened before bringing you home. I planned on letting loose exactly what I thought about your actions, but I was not prepared for the level of guilt and self-hatred you were feeling. I was not prepared for the fact that you planned on never coming home. The more we spoke, the more I began to realize that you were seeking punishment. You tried to anger me into harming you and when that didn't work you decided to punish yourself with isolation from the family you love," she explained.

I absorbed her words and nodded my head to show that she was right.

"As I watched you attempt to control your temper I had to fight the sudden urge to swat you like one of the children, because that was who you reminded me of," she continued to speak. "That is when the idea came to me. You were seeking punishment, and I knew the perfect one. You broke a family rule so I would offer to subject you to the same punishment the children would receive had they broken the same rule. I will admit," she added with slightly narrowed eyes, "I did not anticipate that you would be so opposed. The more you argued against it though, the more I felt it was truly what you needed. Today has been far from your most shining moment Carlisle, and I cannot begin to express to you the disappointment I feel towards your actions and behavior."

Her last statement felt like a punch the stomach, and I sucked in a breath as tears welled up in my eyes. I quickly blinked them away, but I was deeply hurt by her disappointment, and I swore to myself I would do anything I could to never have her utter those words to me again.

I was opening my mouth to apologize when Esme shook her head at me and simply said, "I know." I gave her a look full of remorse, and she sighed heavily.

"Carlisle, before we head back you must hunt. This…discussion will not be easy on either one of us especially if you cannot keep that temper of yours under control," she remarked sternly, and I quickly nodded my head in agreement. I was not going to embarrass myself by fighting my wife, and I sure as hell did not want to accidentally harm her in a fit of temper.

Esme's expression turned relieved before she motioned for me to lead the way. I promptly took off, venom flooding my mouth as I was lucky enough to catch the scent of a bear. The bear was killed, drained, and disposed of in less than five minutes before I took off in scent of more prey. Smelling no more carnivores I settled on a moose and then an elk.

I let out a contented sigh as I released the elk from my grasp. The constant burn in my throat had finally died down, and I could once more think clearly. It had been far too long since I had hunted. I mentally chastised myself for having been so irresponsible and reckless to have allowed my thirst to reach such high levels. It is a wonder I didn't attack anyone at the hospital. And I was such a hypocrite! I was always telling the kids to hunt regularly and I had blatantly disregarded that rule without much thought.

Esme was right. I had been—no, I _was_ a disappointment. I did not understand how she could stand to look at me. I did not understand—

"Ah!" I yelped in surprise and pain as I felt a sharp smack to my rear. I resisted the urge to rub as I whirled around and gave my wife an affronted expression.

"Whatever you are thinking, stop it this instant," she ordered as she wagged her finger at me.

I was still in shock at the fact that she had swatted me so I just nodded my head. Her expression softened at this point, but I still kept a wary eye on her as she walked towards me. When she reached out a hand to me I tensed slightly as I was half expecting her to swat me once more. Esme noticed my reaction and gave a light laugh.

"Carlisle," she chimed in amusement, "I am not going to swat you again."

"I know that," I replied with a huff as I tried to control my embarrassment, but she saw right through me and laughed once more.

"Did it hurt?" she asked mischievously, and I rolled my eyes as I shook my head negatively.

"Hmmmm," she mused as she wrapped her arms around me, "I will have to remember to use a little more force then during your punishment."

"Esme," I moaned quietly as I buried my face in her hair. The prospect of facing this punishment was already causing my stomach to churn nervously, and I really was not up to any teasing.

"I apologize Carlisle for the teasing, but I am serious when I say I don't want you thinking so negatively of yourself," she stated after pushing me away slightly so she could look me in the eyes. "I think you have hunted enough now," she remarked in satisfaction. "Your eyes are golden once more."

"I should have hunted ages ago," I admitted with regret, and her eyes turned stern as she nodded her head in complete agreement. She caressed the back of my head for a few moments before giving me a hug. After she pulled away she said, "I believe it is time we head back to the cottage. We have much to discuss before we get to your punishment."

My stomach flip flopped at her words, and I swallowed nervously before nodding my head. I was determined to behave myself during this conversation and punishment. I had embarrassed myself enough already with my little bouts of temper.

Esme gave me a beautiful smile before grabbing hold of my hand and for the second time today leading me towards the cottage.

**Esme's POV:**

We arrived back to the cottage and with much persuasion managed to convince my stubborn husband to clean himself up. Since I too was filthy from having twice now run through the rain I decided to join him in the shower. He looked ready to protest my intrusion as he no doubt felt now was not the time for such activities, but I never gave him the chance to speak. As I ran my hands up his chiseled abs I knew exactly where to touch and where to kiss to keep him from speaking every time he opened his mouth. After a few minutes he thankfully stopped resisting as he allowed his overwhelming need for me to show through with a mind-blowing kiss…(sorry folks, at this point your imaginations can run wild, so have fun! ;-p)

I was toweling myself off when I noticed Carlisle trying to decide what to wear. He went for casual and was grabbing a pair of jeans before I decided to stop him. He gave me a curious look as I went through one of his drawers. Pulling out a pair of blue sleep plants I handed those to him as I said, "Going off the kid's experiences, I think you will prefer to wear this." I had noted that after most sessions with their father's hand the kids tended to change into their rarely used pajama pants as it no doubt was easier on their tender backsides.

Carlisle's expression turned embarrassed, a look of stubbornness flashing in his eyes. Darling, I thought sadly, this is already going to be difficult, so please do not make it more so. I am already regretting having suggested this damned punishment, but I know it is what you need; and I would do anything for you. Thankfully though, the stubborn look eventually turned into a resigned one as he accepted the sleep pants with a curt nod.

I slowly dressed myself, my mind going over everything I had thought about when Carlisle had left to supposedly go hunting…

…_I sat on the floor sobbing before harshly chiding myself. Enough Esme! Dry your tears! Your husband needs you and you are not helping anything by sitting on the floor and crying like a helpless woman. Carlisle cannot help you now. He is the one that needs you, so you cannot depend on him to figure this out. You must take control._

_ I wiped at my face as I took in several shaky breaths. Yes, I had to toughen up. My husband needed me to be strong right now. He was hurting, and I needed to be there for him as he had done so many times over for me and the kids. _

_ I stood up before slowly making my way into the living room and sitting down in my favorite lounge chair. This is where I would curl up and read or draw, and as I looked up I saw Carlisle's favorite chair. Memories of him just sitting there and watching me, him giving me flirtatious looks, and of the many conversations we had washed over me before I roughly shook my head. Stop it Esme! There is no time for this. You must figure out what you are going to do and figure it out quickly. Carlisle will not be gone for long._

_ I sighed heavily as I sat back in my chair and closed my eyes. What was I going to do? _

_ My husband was feeling so guilty right now, and that guilt was causing him to lash out. I managed to convince him that a spanking would help him, but I was still uncertain if he would accept this punishment. I knew it was what he needed, but would I force it on him if he did not want it?_

_ No, of course not. He was my husband, not my child. He must decide this on his own. It would be wrong of me to force this on him. _

_ But what would I do if he agreed? How would I do it? _Could_ I do it? _

_ Fear and uncertainty gripped me as I pondered the thought of spanking Carlisle. My heart constricted painfully. I couldn't do it. I just couldn't. The few times I had spanked one of the kids I had broken down in tears each time, and Carlisle had been the one to console me. I would not be able to expect that this time as it would be me consoling him. I would have to remain strong. I would not be able to show any doubt, or how much punishing him was hurting me. He would see it right away and he would stop me. I knew Carlisle, and once he realized the pain I was in, he would shelve his own to deal with mine. This was one of the reasons I knew he was truly hurting as I had been able to hide most my pain from him. Usually he could see right through me, but not today. His own emotional turmoil blinded him. _

_ I had to do it though. He truly needed this, and I was the only one who could do it. I had to convince him to accept this punishment because it would help heal the overwhelming guilt he was feeling._

_ There was also a part of me that felt he more than deserved this punishment. I grimaced at the thought. It's true though. My husband made several mistakes that should _never_ have happened, and as a result he ended up abusing our own son; and instead of dealing with this head on he had chosen to run. Carlisle's actions had resembled those of our children rather than those of my husband._

_ I took in a deep breath as I finally made the decision. Very well, I would spank Carlisle, not only to purge him of his guilt, but to also teach him. Carlisle had acted wrongly on many occasions and this would insure that this never happened again. He should have been open and honest with me. He never should have kept what was happening from me in some misguided effort to protect me. By telling me everything was fine he essentially lied to me by omission, and that was a serious 'no no' in our family. Secondly, he should have hunted. There was no excuse for him not having done so. Thirdly, he lost his temper with Emmett. This _should_ never, _could_ never, and _would_ never happen again. This was another big family rule my husband had broken. Jesus Carlisle, where had your mind gone?! Had any of the kids acted like this they would be facing one, or more than likely two spankings._

_ One would be enough for Carlisle though because I would not show him any leniency. His punishment would be harsh, not only because I felt he deserved it, but also because I wanted to insure that this experience would be memorable enough for him to remember for the rest of eternity as I _never ever_ wanted to be put in this situation again. _

_ How could I accomplish that though?_

_ His belt was the first thought that entered my mind. Hmmm, how fitting. I could use the same belt he'd used on our son. It would definitely be painful. Despite how much he had tried to hide it I had seen how much pain Emmett was in, and he rarely ever showed outward signs of discomfort after being punished, especially in front of his brothers. I had seen how he had shifted from foot to foot and clenched his fists as though to stop himself from reaching back and rubbing. Yes, if I spanked Carlisle I would use his belt._

_ I sucked in a breath as my stomach clenched. This would be horrible. The thought alone of taking a belt to my husband terrified me. I would never under any circumstances ever use such an object on my children, but with Carlisle it was another matter. He was expecting and deserved a harsh punishment, and this was as harsh as I would go. I buried my head into my hands. God, please give me the strength to do what is necessary. Please give me the strength to see this through._

_ How was I going to do this then? Would I put him over my lap…I could not help but snort at the image that presented in my mind. I would certainly be able to manage, but due to his height it would be awkward for both of us, well more awkward than it would already be. I supposed I could have him bend over the bed…no, that would not do. I really did not want a memory of this punishment to flash into my mind every time Carlisle and I were in our bedroom, and I was certain he wouldn't either. _

_ I sat up and began to look around the room before setting my eyes on his lounge chair. I could have him bend over the back of it. I knew he had Emmett bend over the back of his couch since he was too large to be comfortably put over his lap. I myself would make the boys bend over a bed or chair when I spanked them. Why then did this thought bother me? Why did I feel it would be better to put Carlisle over my knees?_

_ I heaved a sigh as I stood up and began to pace around the room. There was a nudging feeling in the back of my mind trying to tell me something but I couldn't figure it out. I shook my head before letting out another sigh._

_ So, if Carlisle submitted to this punishment I would have him bend over his chair and take his belt to his stubborn backside. _

_ Tears prickled at my eyes and I chocked back a sob. No Esme, no more tears! You must be strong! Swallow your emotions and suck it up! I took in a deep breath and willed myself to calm down. If I were to go through with this there could be no hesitation and no doubt. I had to be confident and sure of myself, and I had to be in complete control. _

_ I paced around the room gaining the strength and courage I would need to carry out this punishment. By the time I felt myself ready I realized that it had been a few hours since Carlisle had gone hunting. Where was he? Fear entered me before I forcefully pushed it away. He is fine. He is coming back. There is no need to worry. As I calmed myself I realized that I should probably call home. The kids must have been worried sick by now._

_ Picking up the phone I dialed home and could not help but smile when I heard by bear cub answer._

_ "Cullen residence, this is Emmett speaking," he greeted._

_ "Hello Emmy," I greeted lovingly, "how are you baby?"_

_ "Mama!" he shouted in joyous surprise, and I immediately heard in the background the shouts of my other children as they no doubt now surrounded Emmett._

_ "I'm fine Mama, everybody's fine here, but how are you doing?" he asked in concern. "How's Pops doing?"_

_ I frowned, wondering how much I could say before answering, "I'm doing alright, and your father, well, he's feeling very guilty right now."_

_ "Well he should," I heard my rosebud mutter, but thankfully with nowhere near the amount of anger she had yesterday._

_ "Are you guys coming home soon?" Emmett then asked, and I let out a sigh before replying, "No honey, not yet. Carlisle is having a lot of trouble dealing with what he did, and he is not yet ready to forgive himself."_

_ "Well that's dumb," Emmett remarked. "We've already forgiven him and so have you, so what's the problem?"_

_ "It ain't that simple Em," I heard Jasper mention before he asked me, "Mama, do ya need us ta come and talk with Papa?"_

_ "Yeah," Emmett readily agreed, "I'd be more than happy to come over and kick Pop's butt until he forgives himself." I laughed at my burly son's words, my laughter increasing when I heard the rest of the children agreeing with him. _

_ "No darlings," I finally responded, "thank you for the offer, but allow me to handle your father right now. I promise if my efforts prove futile I will call you in."_

_ "Mom," I then heard Edward hesitantly ask, "Dad is going to come home, right?" _

_ "Oh, of course he is honey," I immediately soothed. "He just needs a little space right now, but I promise you that he will come home." I heard as more than just Edward gave a sigh of relief before Alice decided to ask me if I wanted her to look into our futures. I balked at the idea, feeling embarrassment for my husband at the thought of Alice witnessing his punishment, but I did the best I could to hide my little panic from my little seer._

_ "No Alice dear," I replied calmly yet firmly. "I really need you to block all visions concerning us. We are delving into private matters that I know Carlisle would not want you to witness, so please baby, I know it is difficult for you but please continue to give us our privacy."_

_ "Alright Mommy," Alice sighed unhappily, "Please just promise me that Daddys gonna be alright and that you'll be home soon."_

_ "Do not worry Alice," I assured her, "your daddy will be just fine and we'll be home before you know it."_

_ "Okay," she responded more happily, and I smiled, glad that I was able to soothe her worries. _

_ "Alright children," I then stated, "I will call you tomorrow with an update, and hopefully by then I will know when we are coming home and if I need you to come to where we are."_

_ "Okay Mama," Emmett answered for the group. "Take care of yourself and Pops and don't worry about us. We got everything under control." _

"_Emmett's right Mom. Just worry about yourself and Dad. We're all on our best behavior right now," Rosalie assured me, and I could not help but feel immense pride in every single one of my children. They could be immature brats, but when needed, they would always rise to the occasion. Right now they knew their father and I were hurting, so they somehow were able to rein in their rambunctious attitudes and unite in order to help us both. I absolutely adored my family._

_ "I am so proud of each one of you," I praised. "Take care and remember that Carlisle and I both love you. I'll talk with you tomorrow."_

_ "We love ya too Mama," Emmett stated kindly, "And we'll talk tomorrow. Bye."_

_ "Bye baby," I responded before we both hung up. _

_ As I placed the phone down I could not help but stare at the front door once more. Where are you Carlisle? _

_ I paced nervously for a few more minutes before letting out a quiet hiss and heading out the door in search of my missing husband. With the emotional turmoil he was in I was going to make sure he wasn't once more wallowing in guilt and self-hatred. I was going to make sure he wasn't once more trying to run away…_

Mind back in the present I watched silently as Carlisle finished dressing before walking over and placing a hand on his shoulder. He tensed slightly before relaxing and placing one of his hands on mine. Turning around he then wrapped his arms around me, burying his head in my hair. I wrapped my arms around him offering what little comfort he would accept. I could feel his body trembling, yet I did not know why. Was it nervousness? Anger? Sadness? Guilt? Or was it from the effort he was putting into maintaining a tight hold on all his emotions?

Too soon for either of us he broke apart. Taking a breath he straightened himself, no doubt strengthening his resolve. I watched as his mask fell in place and my heart constricted painfully at the sight. Oh Carlisle, you cannot hide yourself from me. Not only do I hate that you feel the need to hide your feelings from me, but for this to work you will have to let go. You cannot take this punishment in stoic silence.

"I am ready Esme," he declared in a strong voice that belied none of the turmoil he was no doubt feeling.

"So am I," I remarked just as strongly, my voice belying none of the turmoil I felt.

**A/N:** So, both Carlisle and Esme have agreed to go through with this punishment, but each one is also hiding their pain and doubt from each other. How will this punishment turn out?


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Twilight…obviously

**Warning:** This story contains _disciplinary spanking_ so if that bugs you then _don't read or flame_!

**A/N: **Finally! I would have had this out hours ago, but the sites been giving me trouble. As always, I give a HUGE THANKS to all you amazing readers! Your reviews totally make my day! Enjoy!

**Chapter 9: Submit**

**Carlisle's POV:**

I gazed down at Esme wondering how we would proceed from here. Never had I ever imagined that I would find myself in such a position once more, let alone with my own wife. I had no idea how she would want to do this, and I had to bite my tongue to keep from taking control of the situation.

To make matters worse I was fighting back fleeting memories of my father's punishments at the same time, which unfortunately was causing an old fear to build in me. I had to get this under control as quick as possible because it would not do for me to panic during my punishment.

"Come," Esme spoke as she walked out of our closet, "let us take this discussion into the living room."

I promptly followed, feeling a bit of relief that she had not planned on doing this in our bedroom. This was certainly not a memory I would want to recall when engaging in more pleasurable activities with my wife.

All too soon we arrived in the living room, and I could not help the way my stomach flip-flopped in nervous anticipation.

"Sit Carlisle," she then ordered as she pointed to my chair. "We have matters to discuss before we proceed with your punishment."

I sighed internally in irritation as I did as requested. Why could we not just deal with the punishment first? Now I knew how my children felt when I insisted on talking before spanking them. The only good thing about this blasted event is that I would not be able to truly empathize with my kids when disciplining them. They would no longer be able to claim that I didn't understand. I smirked mildly at that thought before focusing on Esme.

She settled herself down in her chair and gazed over at me with a serious look. I stared right back, waiting for her to begin speaking. What did she want to discuss? We already knew what I had done wrong. And had we not already discussed this earlier? The deafening silence continued on for several moments and I began to think that maybe she was waiting for me to speak. When I spoke with the kids before punishment I always guided the conversation, but perhaps Esme had a different ritual. I was opening my mouth to say something when Esme gave a curt shake of her head. Huh, well there goes that theory.

We continued to stare at each other in silence, and that was when I noted the way Esme's eyes tightened and how thin her lips were. Looking more closely at her eyes I noticed they were darker than they were when we arrived back at the cottage. I withheld another sigh of sadness this time as I realized the position I had forced my wife into. She was suffering, and though she did an admirable job at hiding it from me I knew her better than anyone, and I could read her better than anyone. I began to feel even more guilt and was about to suggest we just not do this when Esme spoke.

"Why do you feel you deserve punishment Carlisle? What did you do?" she questioned, and I just blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the question before irritation flared up in me. I quickly stamped it down though while mentally chastising myself.

Quit acting like a child Carlisle. You ask the same question with your children, so there is no reason for your irritation. Start behaving your age!

Which age is that, a voice in the back of my mind asked snidely, 23 or 300? I gave a mental shake of my head. Stop messing about, I scolded myself. Esme deserves your respect and attention.

"I lost my temper and physically abused Emmett," I answered her in a repentant tone, and she nodded her head before giving me an expectant look. I wondered what that was about. Was there something else I had done? I rapidly wracked my mind in an attempt to figure out what else I could have done before my mind flashed to the beginning of our discussion in the kitchen. Esme had been extremely upset with me for not having confided in her what had been happening. I groaned internally at my faux pas. I had essentially lied to her, and I could completely understand her ire with me.

"I also lied to you Esme," I admitted shamefully. "I should have been truthful with you about what was occurring."

"Yes, you should have," Esme retorted in a severe tone. "I am your wife Carlisle, and I do not need you to protect or shield me in anyway."

"I didn't do it because I felt you were in any way weak, love," I argued. "I know you are a strong and independent woman, but I just didn't want to disturb you. I knew you were having a good time, and you rarely have such opportunities"—

"That was not your decision to make Carlisle," she countered. "You were extremely stressed and upset and you should have confided in me no matter what. My happiness means nothing if you yourself are not also happy. You have no idea how upset I am over this," she continued and I wilted slightly in my seat at the obvious disappointment in her voice.

"I am deeply sorry Esme, I never meant to hurt you," I told her sincerely, but she just shook her head while sighing.

"But you did," she stated. "You didn't trust me, and that hurts me more than you could know. I could deal with you being overprotective, but this was more. You did not trust me to be able to help you, and so you said nothing."

I reeled back in shock, her words acting like a physical blow. "No Esme, I do trust you, I swear," I insisted as I went over and knelt before her. "Please, love, believe me. I truly didn't feel my distress worth mentioning as I felt I had it under control. I thought I would be fine until you came home," I explained with an earnest look, pleading with her to believe me. "I trust you."

Esme caressed my cheek softly before giving me a sad smile and motioning for me to take my seat. I reluctantly obliged. "I believe you darling, but it still saddens me that you didn't ask for my help. This entire situation could have been avoided if you'd just been honest with me," she scolded, her tone turning sterner with every word.

Her words stung and I found it increasingly difficult to maintain eye contact with her.

"You need to learn to swallow your pride and ask for help," she continued to lecture. "You are not alone Carlisle, and I don't understand why you feel the need to handle your problems by yourself. We are a couple, a partnership and we must work together. What hurts you hurts me and vice versa. You have always been there for me and I will always be there for you. You do not expect me or the children to deal with our problems by ourselves, so why do you expect differently of yourself?" she asked.

"I don't"— I began to protest before being cut off.

"Yes, you do," Esme declared strongly as she leaned forward on her knees. "You expect much more from yourself than you do anyone else."

"Of course I expect more from myself," I stated. "I am responsible for all of you. I am father, husband and coven leader, and you all depend on me so I cannot afford to be weak or to make mistakes."

"I understand," my wife acknowledged, "and I agree with you to a certain extent. You should behave better than our children, but that doesn't mean you must deal with everything by yourself. You are normally very open with me Carlisle, but when it comes to matters close to your heart you still shut me out. I can tell you are ashamed to appear vulnerable to me because you feel I will see you as weak, but that is as far from the truth as possible."

I listened in stunned silence, unsure of how to respond. I recognized the truth in her statement, but I also still wanted to argue against it. It was true though. There was a part of me that I kept close to my heart and refused to share with anyone. And I really was ashamed to appear vulnerable in front of my wife and children. I did not want them to think me weak, but was I right to have such a fear?

"I know you are a strong and resilient man Carlisle and being open and honest with me will not change that," Esme told me softly, a hurt look crossing her expression as she continued to speak. "It hurts me that you feel the need to hide things from me. It hurts me that you feel I could ever look down on you for needing help or for crying. No one is invincible and everyone needs help from time to time, even you Carlisle. Whatever Samuel told you"—

I immediately flinched and hissed in anger at the mere mention of that man, the recent memory I had flashing through my mind. "He has _nothing_ to do with this," I ground out through gritted teeth, and Esme just frowned before giving a sad shake of her head.

"I beg to differ," she stated gently. "I believe he has _a lot_ to do with what you are feeling, and I feel it is time that you were more open with me"—

I once more cut her off, but with a quiet growl this time as I firmly declared, "I am not discussing this." Samuel Cullen was dead and buried. He had no effect on me whatsoever! It was bad enough that this memory had to resurface, but I was _not_ going to allow myself to dwell on him anymore than I already had. He had absolutely _nothing_ to do with what had happened!

My wife pursed her lips in quiet anger before giving me an acquiescing nod. I let out a slight sigh of relief before suddenly feeling guilty for my anger. I could have handled that better. She did not deserve my ire, as I was truly feeling angry with myself.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, but she just pierced me with a disappointed expression that tore though me. I just could not get it right today. I kept messing up. It was a wonder she had not given up on me and just left me to my misery. I would certainly have deserved it.

"Stop it Carlisle," my wife spoke as she heaved a weary sigh. "Stop thinking so negatively of yourself," she stated when I lifted sorrowful eyes towards her, and I just nodded my head mutely.

"Look," she said, a hint of impatience seeping into her tone, "the point I was trying to make to you was that you should never have lied to me. We do not tolerate lies from the children, and nor should we tolerate lies from each other. Be honest with me no matter how much you believe that honesty will upset me. Can you do that?" she asked, and I immediately nodded my head.

"Of course Esme," I assured her as best as I could. "I promise to be honest with you from here on out, and I would once more like to apologize for having lied to you. It was wrong of me, and I am deeply ashamed of my actions. You are completely right. We do not allow the children to lie to us, so for me to have done so with you was unacceptable."

She held my gaze with a hard stare for nearly a minute before giving a satisfied nod. I felt a bit of relief before tensing when she spoke her next words.

"Now I would like to move onto your irresponsibility in regards to hunting," she announced, and I frowned slightly before giving a slow nod of my head. Oh bloody hell, could I have dug myself a deeper hole or what? I thought it was bad enough that I had harmed Emmett, but now add on my lying and not hunting and I may as well have buried myself in the hole while I was at it.

"How long has it been since you hunted?" Esme questioned, and I barely held back a guilty look as I quietly answered, "About a month."

"A month. _A month_?!" she gasped in surprise before closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose, a habit of dealing with stress that she had picked up from me. As she stood up and began pacing I resisted the urge to fidget like a nervous school boy before the headmaster, or in this case headmistress. She murmured so quietly to herself I found it difficult to understand what she was saying, but I did catch snippets like "unbelievable", "how did I not notice?", "worse than the children", and "skin him alive", which led me to the conclusion that my wife was quite displeased with me. I anxiously waited for her to calm down, knowing that I was about to be on the receiving end of a royal tongue lashing.

"_What. Were. You. Thinking?!_" she finally hissed, standing before me with hands on her hips. Despite how upset she was with me I could not help but marvel at her exquisite beauty. My mind flashed briefly to the shower we shared together and I suddenly felt an intense yearning for the comfort and love of my wife. I hated the disappointment and anger in her eyes as she glared down at me, and I hated the pain and hurt that would briefly cross her expression every now and then.

"_Carlisle Cullen_!" Esme snapped, quickly pulling me from my thoughts. My expression turned apologetic as I stared up into her darkening eyes. She released a hand from her hip and I stiffened as I thought for sure she was going to slap me, but all she did was tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. I hoped she had not noticed my embarrassing reaction, but my hopes were dashed when her gaze rapidly softened and she let out a sigh. Thankfully, or unthankfully, I was not quite sure which, she did not remark and instead just repeated her question, albeit with less anger.

"What were you thinking?" she asked

I took a breath, stalling slightly as I tried to come up with an adequate answer; however, there really was no excuse for what I had done, and we both knew that. I gave an internal sigh before answering. "I thought I was fine, and then when I planned on going for a hunt something would come up," I explained lamely. "I was working constantly and when I came home the kids demanded my attention, and I just…" I swallowed guiltily before finishing my sentence in nearly a whisper. "I just deemed it unimportant."

Esme stared down at me uncomprehendingly as she repeated my words back to me in a slow, quiet voice. "You deemed it unimportant."

I nodded my head, noting as her disbelief morphed into anger. "You deemed it unimportant?!" she repeated once more, but much more loudly and with much more anger. I opened my mouth thinking I should say something, but she immediately yelled, "Do not speak!" and I snapped my mouth shut. Uh oh.

"Have you lost your _damned mind _Carlisle!" she roared throwing her hands up in the air in an exasperated manner. Really big uh oh.

"When I left two weeks ago I thought I was leaving the children in the hands of a responsible man, their father, _my _husband! It seems I was wrong though and I left them in the hands of an irresponsible boy!" she declared heatedly, and I could not help the anger and embarrassment that welled up in me as I stood up.

"Now wait just a minute Esme," I began to respond just as heatedly but she threw me a withering glare as she growled out, "Sit down and _be silent_ Carlisle Cullen! I am far from finished speaking and _you will listen_!"

A growl rumbled in my chest at her words and tone, and I gave her a challenging look that she returned full force. "No Carlisle, this is not how we are going to do this," she stated as she poked me in the chest, and I had to stop myself from baring my teeth threateningly by reminding myself that this was my wife, not my enemy.

"You get that temper under control this instant and remember why we are here in the first place," she told me before adding, "And do not attempt to tell me that you have not been acting like a child as your attitude now speaks differently."

I stared straight into her dark amber eyes my mind reluctantly going over my actions of the last few weeks. She was right, I finally thought, and with more difficulty than I would have thought I lowered my head in submission. Shame and guilt were once more my prominent emotions as I sat down stiffly. This was much more difficult than I had ever imagined it would be. I was not accustomed to taking orders or being chastised like a child. The last time I had submitted to someone had been during my time with the Volturi, and before that with my father. Both instances were far from pleasant memories.

I felt a finger under my chin and reluctantly allowed it to lift my head up so that I was once more looking into Esme's disappointed eyes. "Is your temper under control?" she pressed sternly and I gave a single nod as answer. "Good," she huffed before letting out a tired sigh and kneeling down in front of me.

We stared at each other and I noticed as her eyes softened once more before she gave my cheek a loving caress. "I know this is hard for you, and it is not my intention to demean you in any way, but you need to tuck in your pride and listen to what I am saying to you. You understand your error in regards to Emmett, but you are either too stubborn or blind to see your other mistakes. I am not challenging you, my love, and I have no desire to assert authority over you, _but_ for this punishment to work you are going to need to hand control over to me," she declared firmly. "You are not in charge right now, I am, and you cannot be growling and arguing with me every time I say something that upsets you. I have no wish to treat you as I do the children, but I swear to God if you do not start behaving like the man I know you to be I will stick you in a corner until you do."

My eyes widened at her words, and if it were possible I would have been blushing furiously. "I understand Esme," I replied meekly, but she wanted more for she said, "Understand what?"

I placed my hand over my wife's as I stated, "I understand that I must control my temper and yield to your authority. I will not argue with you and I will give you no more trouble. I am sorry darling, I never meant"—I began to apologize but she placed a light finger on my lips before kissing my forehead as she stood up.

**Esme's POV:**

I turned my back on my husband as I tried to reign in my emotions. The more time passed the more I detested what was happening and what was about to happen. I absolutely hated seeing Carlisle in distress, but I knew he needed to hear what I had to say. I only wished he would stop trying to argue with me as this was hard enough. This was so much worse than with the children because there was no question of who was in charge. With Carlisle though, he had more pride that I thought as he was proving unable to submit to me. I hoped he meant what he had said because I truly did not wish to humiliate him even more than he already was or would be when I spanked him.

I took a few deep breaths to bring my mind back to what I had been scolding him about before turning around and fixing him with a stern look.

"Your irresponsibility while I was away was appalling," I began. "You are constantly lecturing the children on the importance of hunting regularly and scolding them when they fail to do so, and yet here you did just that. You have excellent control over your thirst, no one will argue that, but you are not infallible!" I scolded sharply. "Now, if you were one of the children I would explain to you the negative effects of not hunting, but since you are not, I want _you_ to tell _me_."

Carlisle nodded his head obediently before responding in a contrite tone, "By not hunting I put myself, our family and the humans at risk. With the job I hold it was even more irresponsible as I am surrounded by humans with open wounds daily. You are correct, I am not infallible. I could have slipped and fed off of a human, and not only would that have put our family at risk of exposure, but I would have never been able to trust myself again," he admitted with a stricken look. I wanted to comfort him, but I knew now was not the time.

"By not hunting," he continued, "my control over not only my thirst but my emotions slipped…much more than I realized at the time. I was less patient, more irritable, and quick to anger. I came so close to killing that wretched human Leigh and thus endangering our family. By not hunting my inner best took control and made me into a man my father would be proud of," he confessed hollowly. "I hurt my son Esme," he said, giving me a despairing look, "_I hurt my son_."

Although all my instincts told me to wrap my arms around my husband, I instead just responded with a simple, hard, "I know."

Carlisle lowered his eyes at my response, and I watched him for a few moments before saying, "Well I am glad to see you understand the gravity of your _mistake_."

Carlisle just nodded his head, his eyes still lowered in shame.

"Please look at me," I ordered softly, and he lifted such sorrowful eyes to me that I could not help but reach out a hand and run it through his blonde hair in an attempt to soothe him. He graced me with the barest of smiles in thanks, but I knew that in order to truly rid him of his guilt I would have to go through with this god-forsaken punishment.

"May I speak?" he asked, and I internally cringed at the fact that he felt the need to ask.

"Of course," I replied, and he grabbed hold of my hands before standing up and bringing me close. His eyes bore into mine as he began to speak. "There is nothing I can say that would excuse all that I have done. I failed you and I failed the children. You are correct in all that you have said. I acted like an irresponsible boy and it is only fitting that I be chastised as such." He paused for a moment as he gathered his thoughts before adding in a slightly pleading voice, "I understand why you have brought up the topic of my lying and not hunting, however, if Emmett is our next topic of choice I feel a discussion is not necessary. I understand the gravity of what I have done, and I plead that we—that you…" He swallowed nervously as he looked away from me, so I finished his sentence for him.

"You plead that I put you out of your misery," I garnered sympathetically, and he looked down before flicking his eyes to me as he nodded his head.

I mulled his request over in my mind before deciding that I too wanted to get this over with. He understood how horrible his actions were without me having to explain it to him so there was no need to drag this out anymore. I nodded my head, gave my husband's hand a reassuring squeeze before letting go and taking a couple steps away from him.

I could have sworn my heart was pounding as I readied myself for what was about to happen. Courage Esme, courage! Remember why you are doing this. Remember that your husband deserves this—_needs _this!

I looked at Carlisle and saw as he clasped his hands behind his back and stood up straight, although his head was bowed. I did not like this. I _hated_ this! Why Carlisle? Why have you forced me into such a position? Why was this necessary? Why couldn't you just accept our forgiveness? Why did you have to be so stubborn—so masochistic?

Stop this Esme! This is not about what you want or need. This is about Carlisle and what _he _needs. I took in a huge breath and steeled myself for the task. I could do this. I could do this. Hardening my heart and gazing sternly at my husband I held my hand out and demanded in a strong voice, "Go and get me your belt Carlisle."

His eyes immediately met mine and I could see the utter shock he felt. I was surprised to see a hint of nervousness, not because I thought he wouldn't be nervous, but because I expected him to have a tighter lid on his emotions. He opened his mouth slightly as though he wanted to say something before biting his lip. Giving a nervous swallow he then put his blank mask back on before flashing into our bedroom and then back in less than a second. He then handed over the belt without a moment of hesitation and stood at attention once more. I held back a sorrowful sigh at how much he reminded me of Jasper while at the same time feeling relieved that he had not put up a fuss. Good, it seemed he was finally accepting this.

I held the leather belt in my hand and resisted the urge to give it a disgusted look. This was the instrument my husband had used to harm my bear cub and now I was going to use it on him. A sudden flash of worry welled up in me as I thought of how much force I should use. I knew this belt caused more pain than my hand would, but how much more pain I did not know. How hard should I swing? How hard was too hard? I myself had never felt the sting of a belt so I was clueless as to the effects. I had been spanked of course as a human, but rarely was an instrument ever used. I could remember only a handful of times where I had felt my mother's hairbrush, and even less feeling the bite of a switch from my father. With Charles, well, he preferred his fists rather than any kind of object.

I looked at Carlisle who was once more standing with bowed head and briefly thought of asking him how much strength I should put behind each lick before quickly dismissing the ridiculous thought. I supposed I could test it out on myself. Decision made I folded the belt in half, making sure the buckle was firmly in my grasp before holding up my left hand. By this point I had garnered Carlisle's attention and he warily asked, "Esme, what are you doing?"

"I need to determine how much force I should apply for this punishment to be effective," I explained as I glanced up into his worried eyes. "That is not necessary"—he began to protest as he reached out a hand to stop me but I had already raised the belt and brought it down on my hand with a quiet snap. I grimaced slightly at the pain, but determined I could hit harder.

"Esme really," Carlisle protested again as he took my assaulted hand in his and massaged it gently, "This is not necessary. I assure you my reactions will tell you all you need to know on how much force to apply behind each stroke."

"I doubt that," I murmured before bringing the belt down with more force on my right calf since Carlisle refused to release my hand.

"Esme!" Carlisle yelled as I let out a hiss. Alright, that had hurt much more than I expected. It seemed one did not need to apply a lot of strength for this belt to leave a sting. That was worrisome when I thought of Emmett's punishment, but also good to know in regards to my husband's upcoming punishment. Looking into Carlisle's slightly angry yet mostly pained eyes I gave a nod of my head as I stated, "Very well, I know what this thing can do. Release my hand please."

Carlisle reluctantly did as told before saying, "You did not need to do that."

"Yes I did," I responded seriously. "I have no intentions for this punishment to turn into abuse, and that could easily have happened if I did not know how much strength I could put behind each stroke."

Carlisle still looked unhappy and ready to argue, but instead of saying anything he just let out a weary sigh as he looked away. When he turned his head back towards me his face was expressionless as he asked, "Where do you want me?"

A flood of butterflies erupted in my stomach at his question, and I had a moment of doubt. Oh God, was I really going to do this? Was I really about to tell my husband to bend over a chair while I whipped him with his own belt?

Instead of giving into the doubt though, I just gritted my teeth and took in a calming breath before pointing Carlisle towards his own chair. Resisting the urge to ask my husband's advice, I decided it would be best if I made all the decisions from here on out as to give no confusion as to who was in charge at this moment. I alone was in control right now and I alone had to make the decisions. "Lose the pants and the boxers Carlisle and bend over the back of the chair," I ordered in a firm tone, making it clear there was no room for arguments.

I watched as his eyes flicked to his chair before flicking towards me and then back towards the chair. I hoped he would just do as I said and not make me force him (because I wouldn't be able to), so I was immensely relieved when he took the few steps separating him from his lounge chair. Positioning himself behind it, he closed his eyes for several seconds before placing his hands in the waistband of his sleep pants. His face was unreadable, and I desperately wanted to know what he was thinking or feeling. I knew he had to be nervous and embarrassed, but he let none of that show as he lowered his pants to the floor. As I made my way over he lowered his boxers before slowly lowering himself over the back of the chair. I placed my hand on his back and pushed until his nose was nearly touching the seat cousin and his bottom was in prime position. Nerves were eating away at me at this moment, and I was already holding back the tears that wanted to fall.

Sliding my hand down to his lower back I rubbed comfortingly before calling out his name.

"Yes?" he responded quietly.

"You know why you are in this position so I will not get into that. What I want is for you to trust me. I want you to trust me enough to show your emotions, whether they be sadness or guilt or anger. I want you to trust me enough to allow yourself to yell or cry out without the fear of me judging you negatively, because I will not. Trust that I love you and that I will not allow you to fall. Let go of all those emotions I have seen you holding back all day. Do not be afraid, Carlisle, I beg of you. Do not try and protect me by hiding your pain because that will only make things worse for yourself, and for me," I pleaded.

"I will try," he finally responded several moments of silence, and I just nodded my head. That was the best I was going to get and I knew it. I just hoped he meant it.

Alright, we had stalled long enough. It was not time to begin. Resolving myself to see this through to the end I quickly sent up a prayer to God asking for strength and raised the belt in the air.

"Brace yourself Carlisle because I intend to make this a lesson that need only be learned once," I warned.

**A/N: **Whew! So here we go! Who thinks they know how Carlisles going to handle his punishment next chapter? The second part flashback is coming up so that should pretty much give it away. Hoped you enjoyed this chapter. PLEASE REVIEW!


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Carlisle or Esme, or any of the beloved characters from Twilight. Such a shame.

**Warning:** This chapter contains _**disciplinary spanking**_ so if that offends you then don't bother _**reading or flaming**_!

**A/N:** We have reached the dreaded (*snicker* more like highly anticipated) spanking scene! This will be a WILD rollercoaster ride, so brace yourselves! The second flashback occurs this chapter as well, so that's two emotional issues our dear cullen parents have to contend with. Will they survive? Well duh! Of course they will!

Unfortunately, something happened that made it so I didn't get any reviews for the last chapter unless you reviewed as a guest. I'm very sad, so please review the sh*t out of this chapter for me...PLEASE!

**Chapter 10: Pain**

**Carlisle's POV:**

"Brace yourself Carlisle because I intend to make this a lesson that need only be learned once," Esme warned, and I immediately tensed myself in preparation. A myriad of thoughts flashed through my mind as I anxiously waited for that first stroke of the belt.

I could not believe it when Esme asked me to hand over my belt. I was completely caught off guard, and I desperately wanted to question her to make sure she really wanted to do this, but after gazing at her determined face I remained silent and did as requested. I felt for my wife, I really did. I knew she was fighting with herself over this, and I knew this would be extremely difficult for her. I wanted to spare her this pain, but I decided to trust that she knew her limits and that she knew what she was doing because I desperately needed this. I more than deserved the belt, and while a part of me trembled at the pain it would cause, another part of me felt it more than justified. Some could even call it poetic justice. I had taken my belt to Emmett, so now Esme would take the same belt to my foolish backside.

I placed my elbows on the seat cushion of my lounge chair, resting my head on top of my clenched fists. I did not want to grip any part of the chair for fear of breaking it. I wasn't quite sure what I thought of Esme's location for this spanking. I was relieved that she was not putting me over her knee as I wasn't sure I would have been able to handle the humiliation. However, this position was one I was already familiar with as I had many times during my human years been forced over a chair by Samuel when he had been too impatient to drag me to the barn, or when there had been no barn or shed to be punished in.

Already I was receiving brief glimpses of distant memories, and I feared this familiar position would trigger a flashback. I had already insisted to Esme that my father did not affect me, but the more I thought about it the more unsure I was becoming. If I truly was as unaffected by him as I thought myself to be, then why did his memory continue to hurt me? Why did I still get lost in these flashbacks? This new memory especially was proving quite detrimental and I would prefer not to remember the rest of it. I thought of saying something to Esme, but not only was I embarrassed by this weakness, there was also no other position that would change anything. I had been bent over a variety of objects by my father, put up against a wall, tied up, and even chained while receiving my whippings; so any position Esme chose would be subject to the same worries. Truthfully, the only position I had never been in had been over someone's knees. Even James's father had me bend over a bed or a bale of hay those few times he had spanked me.

The other thoughts running through my mind were Esme's request. She pleaded with me to trust her enough to let go and not be afraid to show my emotions, but I wasn't sure I could do that. Already I could feel myself slipping into the protective shell I had worn whenever Samuel had been punishing me. I was already shutting my emotions down and clenching my mouth shut so as not to make a sound. This was all instinctual and I wasn't sure I could stop it once the punishment began. This was not just about protecting Esme from my pain or trying to not appear weak. This was about protecting myself from being hurt, emotionally at least, and although I knew I had no reason to fear being hurt in such a way by Esme, my body and mind still reacted as though I should. It had been nearly three centuries since I had last been punished by my father, yet I still settled into this protective mode as though I had faced punishment only yesterday. The Pastor's son was quickly taking control and I did not know how to stop.

_You are weak and pathetic and I will make you rue the day you were born boy!_

_ Crack!_ My muscles tensed at the first hit, the sting painful but not unbearable. It was a familiar pain as it reminded me of the sting of my father's strap, but that only brought forth more memories, the one regarding Sarah at the forefront.

_Crack! Crack! _Each stroke of the belt left a hot streak of fire on my backside, but I remained silent.

_Crack!_

_You are a disgrace—a disappointment! _Oh no, I thought in growing horror.

_ Crack! _

_ You are a failure! _Focus on the present Carlisle, focus on the present!

_ Crack! _The pain continued to build, but I just clenched my fists and kept my mouth shut. I had a lot of practice at hiding my pain so this wasn't very difficult.

_Crack! _

_You disgust me with your softness boy! Quit acting like a sniveling little girl and take your punishment!_

_Crack! Crack!_ The pain was becoming more uncomfortable now but I still refused to make a sound. The physical pain was nothing compared to the emotional pain I was in. I could feel myself slipping. My mind was going fuzzy and I was no longer sure where I was.

_Crack! Crack! _No tears. No noise. Those were the rules. No matter how much pain, physical and emotional, I had to remain quiet.

_Crack! Crack!_

_ How dare you raise a hand to me you foolish boy! How dare you! _I went rigid and closed my eyes at those words, nearly giving a whimper as I was dragged into the past…

_… "Awake at last Carlisle?" I heard my father ask in a smooth voice._

_ I gave a mild groan as I came to. My head was pounding, my ribs throbbing, and I was sure I was covered in bruises. The fight had not gone well for me. It had started out just fine, and I had held my own; however, I had not anticipated Samuel using the pistol I had killed Sarah with as a club. He had caught me completely unawares when he had bashed it against the front of my head causing me to fall to the ground, completely dazed. That was all he needed to take control of the fight, and in my stunned state he had held nothing back as he first held me up and punched me before dropping me on the ground and kicking me. I guess I must have passed out and some point._

_ Opening my eyes I took in my surroundings. We were still outside in front of the woods, and I was lying in the mud. The rain continued to come down in torrents as thunder and lightning illuminated the dark sky. I was soaked to the bone and freezing, but there was no time to focus on these discomforts as Samuel was dragging me to my feet by my arm._

_ "Get up you useless lout!" he ordered sharply, and I shakily did as ordered. It was at this point that I finally realized my hands were tied with a rope—a rope that was swung over a tree branch. Samuel had a hold of the other end of the rope and he pulled until eventually I was pulled towards the tree and my arms hauled up high above my head. I bit back a yelp of pain as this position put strain on my injured ribs. It was difficult to breathe. When he had me in the proper position he tied the rope to another tree to hold me in place. The hold was tight and allowed for very little movement. I was stuck._

_ My stomach twisted as I realized what was about to happen. I tensed as Samuel moved up behind me, grunting when he ripped the back of my shirt open. I shivered as the cold rain splattered on my now bare back, nervously awaiting the awful bite of whatever instrument the pastor was readying. _

_ This punishment was going to be brutal, and I could not help but be afraid. I was already sore from the beating I had just taken, and my wet skin would only make the punishment hurt worse than ever. Add that to the fact that I had broken about every rule he had ever set for me in the past day and I was pretty much screwed. _

_ I tensed when I once more heard Samuel approaching me. He came around to stand before me so that we could face each other. He had an awful scowl on his face and the fury in his dark brown eyes had reached new levels. I had no doubt that this man hated me, and my heart broke at that thought. Here was my father, a man who should love, cherish, and protect me, and he was the complete opposite. He hated me and he went out of his way to cause me pain. Nothing I ever did would be good enough for him, and I was a fool to ever believe he could love me. I was a failure. I was a disgrace. I was a weak, pathetic, sniveling, worthless child and nothing more. _

_ "What am I going to do with you Carlisle?" he mused out loud as he stroked his chin with his right hand. In his other hand he held a whip and I suddenly felt like throwing up. This was going to be really, _really_ bad. I had only felt the sting of the whip a couple times, and even then it had only been a few licks. I had a strong feeling I was going to be on the receiving end of more than a few this time._

_ "Did you actually believe you could fool me?" he then asked, and I could not help but smirk._

_ "I have been fooling you for years Father and you never knew, so yeah, I did believe I could," I responded. His expression darkened, his hand tightening on the whip, and my smirk grew. I knew I should have been watching my attitude, but I felt I really could get into no more trouble than I already was. My punishment was already going to suck, so I might as well make sure I had thoroughly earned it. _

_ "You disgust me!" he snarled, his fury finally showing in his expression as he came to stand face to face with me. "You are too soft, too weak! How can you not see that what I do is God's work? How can you not see that I am ridding the world of evil?"_

_ "Ridding the world of evil?" I scoffed disbelievingly. "_YOU_ are the evil that the world needs to be rid of! You claim to do God's work, but you and I both know you are lying! You enjoy killing, and you don't care whether the person is innocent or not!" I snapped harshly, all sense of self preservation leaving me. _

_ "_What _did you just say boy?" he pressed in a velvety tone full of threat as he got so close to my face our noses were mere inches apart. I felt his harsh breath on my face and barely resisted the urge to flinch at his menacing glare. Instead, I glared right back, my pounding heart the only sign of how nervous I was._

_ "I _said_ that what you are doing is a sin against God and that you are more of a monster than any of the"—_

_ "SILENCE!" Samuel roared before landing a painful punch to my stomach._

_ "Oomf!" I cried out in pain as I tried to curl into myself; however, that proved impossible with how tightly the ropes had me held up. I gasped for air, my lungs burning as they ached for oxygen, but just when I felt I was going to pass out I managed to suck in a breath of blessed air. I sucked in a few more breaths before letting out a strangled yelp when Samuel grabbed me by the throat._

_ "How dare you speak to me like that!" he yelled as he struck my face with the butt of the whip. "I am your FATHER and you _will_ RESPECT me!" he yelled, once more striking my face with the butt of the whip._

_ I gave my father a fierce glare before spitting out, "You have to EARN my respect!" _

_ "I SAID SILENCE!" he ordered so fiercely I snapped my mouth shut, my heart hammering as I stared wide eyed at the pastor. His face was red with fury and there was a look in his eyes I had never seen before. I did not want to admit it, but I was afraid of him. No, not just afraid, but terrified. He had the same look in his eye as when he had been pointing the pistol at me, and once more I wondered if this man was going to kill me._

_ Samuel tightened his grip on my throat as he declared, "You WILL give me the respect I am due or I WILL make life increasingly miserable for you. You think you have it hard now boy, but you know NOTHING!" And with that he released my throat before walking behind me. My breathing quickened as I tensed in anticipation, and far sooner than I would have liked I felt the agonizing burn of the first lick land._

_ "Mmff!" I moaned before clenching my jaw shut in order to insure I would not make another sound._

_ Crack! Crack! Crack! The whip tore into my flesh and I mentally roared in agony. Oh God this hurt far worse than I remembered._

_ "You will learn to obey me Carlisle Cullen or suffer the consequences!" he lectured before bringing the whip down another three times._

_ Ahhhh! I screamed in my mind, the pain unbearable. _

_ "You are an ignorant, stupid, ungrateful child!" he snarled. "After everything I have done for you, after everything I have given you and taught you, this is how you choose to repay me?"_

_ Crack! Crack! Crack! A moan of pain escaped me, my entire torso feeling as though it were on fire. My back hurt from the whipping, my ribs ached from the abuse they had suffered, and my lungs burned as I was once more found it difficult to breathe._

_ "God has bestowed me with the honor of purging this world of evil and you would do well to remember that," he lectured heatedly, and the whip came down a few more times._

_ Arrgghhhh! _

_ "Unfortunately, it seems he also bestowed me with a wicked boy easily fooled and susceptible to the ways of Satan," he continued cruelly, and I could not help the sudden doubt that filled me. Was he right? Was I easily susceptible to Satan's ways? Was it I who was wrong?_

_ Crack! Crack!_

_ My mind went fuzzy as the pain became too much. _

_ "If you ever dare raise a hand against me again Boy I will break every bone in your hand one by one, slowly, and painfully," he stated, and I let out another groan in pain._

_ "And if you ever presume to lie, disrespect, or defy me in the manner you have today it will not only be you who suffers, but your precious friends!" he threatened maliciously, and I let out a horrified gasp that turned into a yell of pain as the whip once more landed. Black spots appeared before my eyes, and it was several moments before I was able to catch my breath once more. When I did my mind focused on his threat and I could not help but wonder if he truly meant what he said. Would he truly go after my friends to get to me? Yes, I thought to myself, yes he would. My mind reeled in terror at the thought of him harming either James or Rachel because of me._

_ He continued to speak after that, but due to the pain I only caught bits and pieces, such as "miserable disgrace", "failure", "disappointment", and "weak fool". As much as I tried to stop it, his words cut through me deeper than his whip ever could. I knew I shouldn't have cared about what he was saying to me. I knew his words were lies, but there was a part of me that could not help but believe them. I tried to tell myself I neither wanted nor needed my father's approval or love, but once more there was a part of me that disagreed. I could not stop the boy in me that still yearned for Samuel to look at me with more than disgust and discontent. _

_ "Carlisle, are you listening to me?" Samuel demanded._

"Carlisle! Carlisle Cullen, can you hear me?" another voice demanded, and I became confused. That was not my father's voice. This voice was feminine and full of concern.

"Carlisle, my love, focus on my voice. It is me Esme. I am not your father. He is not here. You are safe Carlisle, you are safe," Esme soothed and my eyes flew open as my mind snapped back to the present.

Esme was kneeling before me, running a soothing hand through my hair as she stared at me in loving concern. I heard someone growling, and when I realized it was me I immediately stopped.

"Are you with me Carlisle?" Esme questioned worriedly. "Do you know who I am?"

"Esme," I choked out in shock, and she let out a sigh of relief, muttering out a quiet, "Thank God". It was at this point that I finally took stock of the situation. I was no longer leaning over my chair. In fact, looking past my wife I noticed that the top of my chair was completely destroyed. I was currently sitting on the floor (quite uncomfortably I might add), my back pressed up against the wall. My boxers and pants were on, but I was missing my shirt. What in the world happened?

"Esme, what happened?" I asked, somewhat disoriented as I got to my feet, the burn in my bottom becoming more noticeable. Esme stood up as well, keeping a hand on me, her eyes still full of concern as though she was worried about what I might do.

"You had a flashback Carlisle," she explained gently, and I nodded my head as I responded, "Yes, I know, but what—how did I end up over here? Did I hurt you?" I asked in sudden worry, and she shook her head negatively.

"No, no, of course not," she reassured me. "You, well, I'm not quite sure when the flashback occurred as you refused to make a sound," she recounted with a disgruntled look, "but I did not realize anything was wrong until you went completely rigid. I tried to talk to you at that point but when you didn't answer I became concerned. I realized what was happening so I stopped the punishment and righted your clothes. I then laid a hand on you and that was when you panicked." I stared at her in shock, wondering what she meant by panic.

"You—you became startled and attempted to get away from me. That was how you destroyed your chair. I grabbed a hold of you but you managed to pull away, ripping your shirt in the process. You then ended up crouching down in this corner, covering your head with your hands. You began growling, flinching, and groaning at that point," she explained, her eyes full of sadness and distress. "It took several minutes of me speaking with you to get you to come to."

I nodded my head at her words, absolute shame coursing through me as I gazed about the room. How pathetic was I? I could not even take a simple spanking without flipping out. What must Esme be thinking of me? Samuel was absolutely right. I was pathetic. I was weak.

"Carlisle," Esme sighed as she turned my face back towards her, "don't do this to yourself. What happened was not your fault. I should have anticipated this would happen"—

"Esme don't," I interrupted sharply. "Do not make excuses for me. There was no reason for me to have"—

"No Carlisle, _you_ don't!" Esme snapped in an exasperated tone, tears welling up in her eyes. They did not fall though as she took a deep, calming breath. "What happened was _not_ your fault," she stated. "It was Samuel's. You were having a flashback of his punishments weren't you?" she questioned, and I just shook my head at her. I did not want to talk about this.

"Let it go Esme, it does not matter," I insisted miserably, but she shook her head back at me.

"Does not matter?" she states in shock. "Carlisle, you didn't see yourself. You were practically cowering away from me. You had no idea where you were or who I was."

More shame flooded through me before I saw a look of sudden hesitation and regret come across her expression. It was a look that told me she was reconsidering my punishment. I felt a moment of panic at the thought. She had to finish this. She could not leave me like this. If we stopped now because of my damned moment of childish panic, then I would never forgive myself. I wanted to say something, but I couldn't bring myself to open my mouth. She had to make this decision on her own. I could not force her, no matter how much I needed this.

"Carlisle," she spoke in a near whisper as she gazed at me with despairing eyes, "I don't think I can finish this."

"You can," I responded, internally wincing at the clear panic in my tone. The slight widening of Esme's eyes showed she had heard the panic, for her despair quickly turned to concern. She studied my face closely before speaking once more.

"What if you have another flashback?" she questioned. "You are meant to be focusing on what landed you in this position when I am spanking you, but I'm afraid you're just going to lose yourself in another memory. This spanking won't work if that happens, it will just be abuse."

"No," I told her, giving a firm shake of my head. "It won't be like that, I promise you. I will control it." Please Esme, do not give up. Please Esme, see this through to the end, I thought.

My wife continued to study my expression, emotions passing over her face so quickly I couldn't place them. Eventually though, she settled on determination. All doubt and fear was once more gone from her face as she gave me a nod.

I let out a huge sigh of relief before I heard her state, "If we are to continue you are to do everything _my_ way, do you understand? You will answer any question I ask honestly, and if at any point I feel this is not working, then I will stop and that will be it."

I gave my immediate agreement, fear coursing through me at the thought of this punishment not working. I couldn't live with this guilt. This _had_ to work!

"If this doesn't work," Esme continued, "I promise you Carlisle, we _will_ find another way to help you. Do not despair."

I nodded my head once more, my love for this woman somehow growing to new proportions.

"Okay," she remarked, taking in a huge breath before she then asked, "What memory were you experiencing?"

I sucked in a quick breath, balking at the mere thought of recounting the memory. The shame of what I had done and experienced was too much for me and I just wanted to forget it all. Despite the promise I had just made, this was one question I could not answer. "Please Esme," I begged pitifully, "don't make me talk about it. I _can't_, not now, not like this."

I saw anger and complete frustration flash through Esme's eyes before it disappeared as quickly as it appeared. She walked up to me, placed her hands on either side of my face and gently forced me to look her straight in the eyes. I allowed her to see the utter desolation and fear I had regarding this memory, so she could see how horrible it was without me saying anything. It was several moments of tense silence before she dejectedly said, "You are making this a whole lot harder for me."

I said nothing, waiting with bated breath until she gave a single nod, releasing her hold on me.

I let out a sigh of relief as she told me, "Very well Carlisle, I will let this go for now. However, I am going to insist that you tell me what it was that triggered the flashback. Your punishment is far from over and I do not want this to happen again."

I bit my lip as I looked down, not really sure I wanted to answer that question either...So much for my promise, I mentally chided myself.

"Carlisle, please," Esme pleaded, her dark amber eyes boring into mine. "You told me you would answer my questions honestly, and so far you are doing the exact opposite. Now I have already allowed you to keep the contents of the flashback from me, but I will not let this go. If you want this to happen, you are going to have to open up to me. Please be honest with me. _Please_ _trust me."_

"I do trust you," I declared softly, not liking the desperation I heard in her tone, nor the look of hurt that crossed her face. I mentally shook myself for putting her through this. This was too much for her. I was being selfish.

I wrapped my arms more tightly around Esme, offering her all the comfort I could. "I am so sorry for all the stress I have put you through Esme," I told her. "I have been selfish, and I have put you in an awful position. Please do not feel obligated to finish this. I should never have asked this of you."

"Carlisle Cullen, will you stop being so damn pig-headed!" she snapped in sudden anger as she pushed away from me. I stared at her, shocked by her change in mood. "First off, I was the one who suggested the punishment. You asked nothing of me. Secondly, you have already agreed to submit to this punishment, so you no longer have the option of backing out. You will take this punishment and you will rid yourself of whatever guilt you are feeling, do you understand me?" she stated, poking my chest at those last few words.

I gave a mute nod, still caught off guard by this display.

"Now, tell me what I want to know," she demanded, arms crossed and her expression stern. I truly felt like a right little miscreant with the look she was giving me. I had better give her what she wants before she resorts to harsher methods. With the look she was giving me, I suddenly had no doubt that she would bust my backside in order to get me to answer her damned question.

As I contemplated this, one of her eyebrows rose as though to say, 'I'm waiting', and I decided I had better not press my luck.

"I-I am not quite sure what exactly triggered the flashback," I began, and upon noting my wife's displeased expression I quickly added, "But it could have been the position, the implement, or the whole punishment in it of itself." I gave a light shrug, feeling embarrassed.

**Esme's POV:**

I took note of Carlisle's embarrassed expression, and I wished there was some way I could convince him not to be.

His explanation concerning his flashback left much to be desired as I had already assumed everything he had told me. I wondered if there was some way of doing this that would not trigger a flashback. How could I make this as different from Samuel's punishments as possible? I didn't want a repeat of what had happened earlier.

I had been completely caught off guard and horrified when I had seen the state I had put my husband in. I remembered the frustration I felt towards him as I commenced his punishment and he refused to make a sound. I will admit that I swatted him a little harder than I had intended to, but I had wanted to get a reaction out of him. He had to have been in pain, but he had given no inkling of what he was thinking or feeling. He had remained so still and silent I was unsure if the punishment was even working, which is why I had put more force into each swat.

Perhaps I had done something wrong. I had minimal experience when it came to delivering a spanking. To date I had only spanked Jasper and Rosalie, and both those times had been spur of the moment decisions with little discussion. Each child had shown signs of discomfort as I had spanked them and had eventually given in and cried. Even Jasper who tried to take his punishment as stoically and silently as possible had yelled out in pain before crying. Then again, he had already been sore from the spanking he had received from Carlisle, but still…

I sighed as I walked a few paces away from Carlisle. I thought over everything he had ever told me regarding his spanking of our boys. Each boy was full of pride and always attempted to remain silent while being punished. They did not want to appear weak or unmanly in front of their father; but of course they always failed. Jasper had been able to hold out the longest, but he had a higher pain tolerance than his brothers due to his…Oh, I thought in sudden realization, giving myself a mental slap. I am such an idiot.

Jasper had a higher pain tolerance due to his past, and so too did my husband. How could I have not considered this? This was the man who went through the painful torment of the vampire transformation in complete silence; who despite the agonizing pain he had been in had managed to not only remain lucid enough to be aware of his surroundings but to actually move himself. A man who could suffer through such pain would of course be able to handle a spanking in silence. I should have realized that Carlisle needed more than just the pain to get through to him.

My memory flashed back to the aftermath of Jasper's first spanking and what Carlisle had told me. He had said that the spanking had gone on longer than he wanted due to Jasper's stubborn resolve to take the punishment stoically, but that he had eventually gotten through to our soldier by lecturing and expressing his disappointment.

I closed my eyes at my own stupidity. This should have been obvious to me. To get through to Carlisle I would have to break through his emotional barriers as well and I would only be able to do that if I spoke to him. The physical pain of the spanking would help, but it would be my disappointment—the family's disappointment in him that would hopefully push him into finally letting go of his emotions; and only by letting go could he finally begin to heal.

How was I going to do this though? I did not want to risk Carlisle getting lost in another flashback. The memory of this one I already knew was going to haunt me for a long time. Never before had I seen my husband in such a pitiful state. I had smelled the raw fear coming off him, and that had terrified me. And then to see him cower away from me, raising his arms up as though to protect himself, well, I nearly panicked myself. I had _never_ seen Carlisle in such a state and I never wanted to again.

I looked over my husband, my heart sinking at the sight he presented. He stood before me shirtless, hair disheveled, and paler than usual. His eyes had darkened, revealing the emotional turmoil he was experiencing. He looked exhausted, and I really wanted to just forget this whole idea, but I knew from Carlisle's tone and eyes that he would only see this as a failure on his part. He would see himself as weak for not having been able to take his punishment; and his guilt over what he had done yesterday would only increase.

I had to see this punishment through to the end and I _could not_ stop until Carlisle allowed himself to cry. As much as my stomach twisted at the thought, I was resolving myself right here and now to not give in until Carlisle did. No matter how much heart ache or pain I was in, and no matter how much pain Carlisle was in, I knew this punishment would be ineffective if he did not let go.

Glancing about the room I considered where the spanking could take place. I could have Carlisle bend over another chair, but that wouldn't really solve the problem. I wondered…

"Darling," I suddenly asked, "is there a position you were never placed in when punished by Samuel?"

Carlisle immediately grimaced, his arms crossing over his chest in a somewhat protective manner as he stared at the floor in apparent thought. I could swear he was embarrassed, and I wondered why.

"Carlisle," I pressed as I placed a gentle hand on his forcep. His troubled eyes flicked towards mine, and he tightened his jaw before stiffly answering, "I was never punished over his knees."

Oh, I thought as I blinked in surprise. Well that definitely explained the embarrassment. Hmmm. If being placed over someone's lap was the only manner in which he had never been punished, then that would be the best way for me to do this as it should prove a different enough experience for his mind to remain in the presence. I did not wish to humiliate him, but perhaps this was the best way. He needed to learn to swallow his pride, and hopefully this position would help him realize how childish he had been behaving. This extra embarrassment could prove beneficial in breaking through his tough emotional barrier.

Mind made up I gave my husband a determined look before walking over towards the broken chair, picking up the dreaded belt, and then walking to our couch. Sitting down in the center I then gave him an expectant look as I crooked my finger for him to come to me. If the situation had not been so serious I probably would have laughed at his gob smacked expression., but as it was I only felt irritation as he then began to shake his head while saying, "Esme, no."

"Yes," I responded firmly, trying to convey my utter seriousness in both tone and expression. "This is the only position you were never punished in by Samuel, so it will hopefully prevent you from having a flashback."

My husband shifted from foot to foot, uncrossing his arms before crossing them once more. His expression showed that he was conflicted as he once more shook his head at me. "Esme, no," he repeated, "I am too big to go across your lap, and I, uh, well…" He ran a hand through his hair in a frustrated manner, and although my heart ached for him I kept my expression firm. I was resolved and he was not going to change my mind.

"Carlisle, I am more than capable of handling you, so do not concern yourself," I replied. "Even though you have not said it, I know your biggest issue is embarrassment, am I right?"

Carlisle gritted his teeth, his eyes flashing in anger briefly before he gave a shame-faced nod. I sighed internally, but continued speaking. "This is a punishment and you are not meant to enjoy it. A spanking is not only meant to be painful, but embarrassing as well; and you know this as you have said the same thing to our children multiple times over the years," I said. He remained silent and unmoving, his expression once more a blank slate as he stared at the floor.

"Enough of this ridiculousness," I huffed, "come here and let us be done with this."

Carlisle did not react, and I gave a growl as I stood to my feet. I now had his attention so I glared as I stated, "Carlisle Cullen, you will desist with these childish antics this instance! This whole situation is difficult enough for the both of us as it is, so why make it even more so? Remember that this is punishment and you have no say in how it is done, so for the last time come here before I leave you to deal with your guilt by yourself."

I noted as my husband's face turned guilty at my words before turning nearly panicked by the end of my little tirade. He made it over to the couch in under a second after that and was opening his mouth to no doubt apologize but I just gave a sharp shake of my head to keep him quiet. The time for apologies was over.

I then stared him straight in the eyes, trying to gauge his state of mind. I was ready for this, but was he? He had just been dragged into an obviously traumatic memory. On a normal day that would be enough to rattle anyone, but add that to the emotional turmoil he had already been experiencing due to what happened with Emmett and he should be a complete wreck; but he wasn't. Well, not quite. On the surface he looked calm, but his eyes were no longer able to hide his state of being. He was in turmoil. It was a wonder he had not already broken down, but I figured the forced hunt gave him the needed boost to regain a hold on his slipping emotions.

I stared up at Carlisle, noting the way his breathing had increased, a sure sign that he was feeling anxious. He tried desperately to hang onto his blank mask, but he could not hide his nerves or utter humiliation. He hated this, and while a large part of me felt upset by that, a larger part of me was satisfied because it meant this punishment was so far proving effective. I really had no desire to ever go through with this again.

Taking his hand in mine, I gave it a comforting squeeze before pulling. I met with some resistance at first, but after I gave a firmer tug he finally relented and allowed himself to be guided over my lap.

**Carlisle's POV:**

I lay over my wife's lap stiff as a board and wishing beyond might that I could just disappear. I could not believe I was going to get a spanking over her lap like one of the children. This was utterly mortifying.

I admit, I understood her reasoning. Samuel had never punished me in this way. It was too intimate, too familial for him, and it did not allow enough swinging room for the variety of instruments he liked to use on me. The unfamiliar position coupled with the utter humiliation I was feeling was enough to keep my mind firmly in the present; and I wasn't sure I was too happy about that.

I threw my hands out, steadying myself, but Esme just pulled me closer and more forward so that my upper body rested on the couch. I crossed my arms and buried my head in them when I felt my boxers being tugged down. Tears were already prickling at my eyes from sheer mortification. I had not felt so exposed or vulnerable since my human days, and I absolutely hated it.

"Carlisle, are you with me?" Esme questioned as she rubbed a hand in comforting circles on my back.

"Yes," I answered as I mentally began to prepare myself for this punishment. My emotions were haywire, and I could feel my control slipping, but I was also determined to take this punishment in silence. I did not want to cause Esme anymore distress and I did not want to humiliate myself anymore than I already had.

"Good," she responded softly before requesting that I take a deep breath and try to relax. With much difficulty I followed her orders, and just as I had managed to relax some the first swat landed. I could not help but suck in a breath of surprise, not from the pain but from the fact that she was using her hand. Why was she not using the belt? Was it because she felt I could not handle it? Shame flooded through me, and I was opening my mouth to question her when she answered my unspoken question.

"I am starting out with my hand because I want to make sure you do not slip into another flashback. I realize now that the belt must have felt very similar to the strap Samuel was so fond of using on you. I also want you to be able to focus on what I am going to say to you, and if I use the belt I have a strong suspicion your entire focus will be on remaining silent," she explained knowingly, and I could not fault her logic. "Do not worry though, my love, I will be using the belt again as I am certain it will be needed to reinforce my words."

I could not help but gulp at her words, my stomach actually turning queasy.

We both remained silent for the next several moments with the only sound heard being the slaps of her hand against my backside. It did not take long before I was gritting my teeth against the pain. I had not truly realized how soundly I had already been punished with the belt as getting lost in the memory had temporarily dulled my senses; but judging from the quickly growing flame in my backside I would say she had done a good number on me.

The pain continued to build and I clenched my teeth even tighter while beginning to resist the urge to fidget. This was really beginning to hurt, and I could once more feel my mind trying to slip into an emotionless state. Fortunately, or unfortunately, Esme began to lecture me at this moment, forcefully keeping my mind and emotions firmly in the moment.

"_Never_ in all our years of marriage," she began, "have I been so _disappointed, _so _disgusted_, so _infuriated_ with you than in these past few days." I felt a lump form in my throat at her declaration.

"You cannot begin to fathom the feelings that ran through me as I arrived home to hear Emmett, my big strong boy _screaming_ and _sobbing _for me, and then Rosalie screaming death threats towards you in the front yard, her siblings the only thing keeping her from tearing into you; and you my dear were frozen in place doing absolutely _nothing_ to console our distraught child," she recounted, disappointment literally oozing from her every pore.

If it were possible she made me feel even worse than I already did. I _hated_ how much I had disappointed my wife, and how much I had let her down.

"I'm sorry Esme, I'm sorry I've disappointed you," I choked out rapidly before gritting my teeth to keep from making a sound as she landed a particularly harsh swat.

"I know Carlisle, and I have already forgiven you, but letting _me_ down doesn't bother me as much as the fact that you let your children down. You promised them, you _swore_ to them that you would _never ever_ raise a hand to them out of anger and you broke that promise," she told me, and I visibly flinched, the truth of her words hurting me more than any of her swats ever could.

I had broken my promise to them, and that was unforgivable. Esme forgave me, but she was my mate, there was a part of her that would never be able to hate me. The children however were another matter entirely; but Esme said they had forgiven me. How could they though? Edward possibly, maybe even Alice. Jasper was a maybe, although I lent more towards no; and if he did not forgive me I had no doubt he would sway Alice to his side. Emmett and Rosalie especially would never forgive me, and I really could not blame them. I tensed my entire body at this point, tightly shutting my eyes to hold back hot tears. The lump in my throat continued to grow and my mouth was thick with venom. I had destroyed my family.

Esme paused the spanking at this point and rubbed her hand up and down my back. I let out a shaky breath I hadn't realized I had been holding and unconsciously began to relax my tensed muscles. I immediately tensed once more though when I heard the clinking of my belt as she picked it up. Oh no, I thought with an internal groan.

_Crack! Crack!_ The first two licks landed in the same spot and I could not help the way my body jolted or the soft grunt that escaped me. That stung horribly! I clenched my fists tightly, my nails digging into my palms as I braced myself for the next lick.

"I know what you are thinking Carlisle, and you have ruined nothing. The children have forgiven you, I promise you that, but you still have a lot of work ahead of you," my wife continued, and my mind immediately latched onto the fact that she said the kids had forgiven me. Had they? Was she really telling me the truth?

"You need to do everything in your power to _deserve_ that forgiveness while at the same time earning back their trust, Emmett's especially," she declared, and I nodded my head in complete agreement, unable to verbally state this as there was an uncomfortable lump in my throat.

Unfortunately, my nonverbal reply was not enough for Esme as she immediately demanded I respond with actual words. I remained silent though, not wanting Esme to hear how shaky my voice would no doubt be. My mouth was so tightly clenched shut that I wasn't sure I could open it either.

_Crack! Crack! Crack!_ I gave a small yelp at the rapidly delivered licks, the burn becoming too much for me to remain quiet. My mind was torn between trying to keep a lid on my emotions and trying to block out the pain, but it was a battle I was quickly losing. The emotional turmoil I was experiencing was not allowing me the amount of focus I needed to deal with the pain. A part of me applauded my wife for a job well done, while another part of me cursed her for being able to reduce me to such a state. One thing was for sure, I was certainly feeling well chastised.

"Tell me what you are going to do Carlisle," Esme demanded, landing a few more stinging swats, tightening her grasp when I unconsciously began to squirm.

"I will make sure to deserve their forgive-forgiveness, and-and I will earn b-back their trust!" I gasped out in a strained voice as quickly as possible, not at all liking how weak I sounded.

"You had better mean this Carlisle Cullen because if _anything_ like this happens _ever_ again, I _promise _you that the children will _not_ be so forgiving," she threatened before emotionally adding, "and neither will I." I could hear the pain in her voice as she said this, but that was the only sign she gave of her distress as the belt continued to land a few more times. Unlike my wife though, her words had cut right through my emotional barriers and right to the core of my being. Tears blurred my vision before they finally began to fall as she went for one last push.

"You need to learn to not bottle in your emotions and to ask for help when you need it. You are not alone Carlisle, but you will be if you continue to shut me out. You are my husband, and I need to be able to trust you, so you had best heed my words, do you understand me?" she lectured sternly, and I somehow managed to choke out a tearful, "Yes," as my shoulders began to shake. Tears were rapidly falling, and I bit down on my fist to keep from making any sound, be it a sob or cry of pain. I did not want to lose my family. I would not be able to stand being alone again. This would _never_ happen again, I swore to myself. It could not, it _would not_!

"I am glad to hear that," Esme responded evenly, "but just to make sure, let this serve as a reminder to you." And with those foreboding words she brought down the belt another five times in rapid succession. My control gone, I could not hold back a pained shout as these licks were delivered harder than all the rest.

I did not hear as Esme declared us done, nor did I notice as she set down the belt, pulled up my boxers and pants and began to rub my back. I was overwhelmed as all the emotions I had been holding in burst out of me. All the sorrow, guilt, shame, pain and anger I had been feeling over having hurt Emmett were let out, so I was barely aware as my wife lifted me to my feet and guided me towards our bedroom. She pulled me down onto the bed where she wrapped her arms around me. I halfheartedly resisted at first, but when her arms tightened, I finally gave in and just buried my head in her chest and cried.

A/N: So, intense, huh? A LOT of emotions flying about, but Carlisle FINALLY gave in! What'd you think? PLEASE REVIEW!


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer:** Don't own Twilight or its amazingly hot characters

**Warning:** This story contains disciplinary spanking, so if that's not your thing then don't bother reading or flaming.

**A/N: **Punishment is over, but Carlisle is still far from whole. New issues arise that need to be dealt with. I did warn you that this story had A LOT of angst.

Thanks for the wonderful reviews! So glad you guys are enjoying this!

**Chapter 11: Trauma**

**Esme's POV:**

Several tears managed to escape me as I held my distraught husband in my arms. His shoulders shook and tears cascaded down his cheeks but he allowed no sounds to escape. This silence hurt me as I had no doubt that this was another result of his father's abuse. We were definitely going to need to have a serious discussion about his father, but not right now.

I stared down at Carlisle with sorrowful eyes. His head was buried in my chest and his arms were wrapped tightly around me. My mind flashed to the end of his spanking and how he had actually cried out in pain, the smell of his venom tears filling the room. Watching him now as he still stubbornly tried to remain silent, I decided to speak.

"It's alright darling, just let it all out," I encouraged softly. "You don't need to hold it in. I've got you and I will not let you go." I ran my hand lovingly through his hair over and over. "I am not your father Carlisle, I am your wife and I love you. You do not have to hide anything from me, so please darling, _please_ just let go."

My words seemed to have the desired effect because a loud sob echoed through the room as my husband finally let go of the last bit of control he had. I felt little relief though as his sorrowful cries tore through me. I had accomplished what I had set out to do. I had broken my husband, and I felt nothing but self loathing at the pitiful state I had reduced him to. I had never in all my years seen him so brokenhearted. I had never seen him openly cry in this manner and I hated myself for having done this to him. My husband was strong, always in control. He was our rock, and I had just torn him down.

Stop it Esme! I scolded myself harshly. Your pitying thoughts are not helping anything. If you feel you truly broke your husband then fix this by putting him back together. Pick him back up and help him recover. I took in a deep breath before gritting my teeth and putting forth all my efforts into consoling Carlisle. Now was not the time for me to be having doubts. Now was the time for me to finish what I had set out to do. Punishment had been doled out, and now it was time for comfort. Carlisle needed me and I _would not_ fail him.

Oh, but I hoped this punishment worked. I hoped he could forgive himself because I didn't know what else to do, and I would hate for this all to have been for naught.

As his sobs continued I decided to hum a soothing melody for him in hopes that it would prove as calming for him as it did for our children.

**Emmett's POV:**

It was late Saturday night, well, technically it was early Sunday morning and the house was quiet, which was way weird seeing as all my siblings were present. No one was talking, laughing, or even arguing. The atmosphere was tense and anxious, and I'm pretty sure it wasn't Jasper's doing. We were all lounging out in the living room waiting for Mom to call us with some hopefully good news.

I stood by the phone (sitting was still _not_ an option) while Rose stood faithfully by my side, her hand in mine. Jasper sat on the couch, Alice in his arms while Edward stood stoically by the window just staring out it as though hoping to see our parents walking out of the forest.

I _hated_ this. It wasn't supposed to be this way. We shouldn't be sitting here twiddling our thumbs while we waited to hear from Mom. There had to be _something, anything_ we could be doing to set things right.

I was angry. Angry at myself for what I had done, and for how I reacted. Angry at myself for not being able to fix this, and for not being able to cheer my siblings up. I wasn't quite myself. I was also angry with Pops. Angry over what he had done, angry over him leaving, and angry over the trouble he was giving Mom about coming home. I meant it when I told Mom I'd give the guy a good kick in the arse to get him here. I was also angry at Mom, and I couldn't help but feel guilty about that one. I was angry over how she left for those two weeks, because if she hadn't then none of this would've happened. And I was angry over how she had just left us here, not telling us where she was going, not letting us help, and for not letting Alice look into their futures. I mean really, she must know we're all freakin out over here!

I bit back a disgruntled sigh as I shifted from one foot to the other. I was a man of action, and standing here was definitely not actiony enough for me!

My gaze shifted towards Alice when as she abruptly stood up, and began to pace in front of the couch.

"This is ridiculous!" she screamed, running both her hands through her spiky, black hair. Soldier boy immediately got up, wrapping both his arms around her in an attempt to calm her, but she wasn't having it. "Why did she forbid me from looking into their futures? What if they're in trouble? What if they need us?" she asked rapidly, staring at each of us with wide concerned eyes. I wished I knew the answer to her questions, but I didn't, and once more my self-loathing popped up. Why did I have to be so freakin' brainless? Why did I have to go and tick off Pops like that? This was all my fault, and if Pops never came home I'd never forgive myself. I wished Mom would call cuz I'd already decided that I'd tell her that I would leave home if it meant Pops would come home to the others. Mom and my siblings didn't deserve to lose him because I couldn't seem to behave.

I heard a snort and locked eyes with Edward who was giving me a half 'I feel sorry for you' look, and a half 'you're being an idiot' look. _What?_ I questioned him somewhat defensively. _I'm serious. If my leaving means Pops will come home, then I'll do it._

Edward gave another snort as he rolled his eyes before drily stating, "And here I thought Rosalie was the drama queen of the family." We had all our siblings' attentions at this point, my Rosie staring at me in concern before glaring at Edward.

"Emmett here thinks Dads not coming home because of him. He's blaming himself for all that's happened and says the next time Mom calls he's going to tell her that he'll leave if it means that Dad will come home," Edward informed everyone, and I mentally cursed my dear brother for sharing my thoughts before taking note of Rose and my siblings reactions.

"Emmett, don't be ridiculous," Rosalie immediately stated as she stared at me with fierce eyes. "You are _not _to blame in the slightest! This is all Dads fault! He was the one that hurt you, not the other way around!"

"I don't know about it all being Dad's fault," Jasper inputted, "but it sure as hell ain't all yer fault Emmett."

"Dad would never want you to leave, and Mom wouldn't either," Alice added with utter certainty.

"Besides," Edward stated, "If Dad doesn't come home, it wouldn't be because he blames you in any way. I thought you knew him better than that. He no doubt blames himself and can't live with what he's done to you. You all know about Dad's childhood, and how his father treated him," he explained, and we all gave solemn nods. "Well, Dad's biggest fear is that he would one day treat us as his father treated him, and right now I have no doubt he believes he did just that."

"That's bull!" I burst out in anger. "I mean yeah, my whipping was no picnic, but he sure as hell didn't treat me the way his old man treated him. He didn't abuse me…did he?" I tacked on to the end somewhat uncertainly as I stared into each of my siblings and then Rosalie's faces.

"Yes he did," Rosalie hissed, fury entering into her eyes, while Edward and Alice exchanged uncomfortable looks. Ignoring my Rosie I looked at those two and softly asked, "Did he abuse me?" As embarrassing as it was, I knew they had to have seen part if not all of my punishment from Pops, so they were the only ones who could answer me.

Both Edward and Alice exchanged looks once more before they turned serious eyes towards me.

"Were you afraid?" Edward questioned, and I shifted somewhat in embarrassment wondering why he was asking this before giving a single nod. Yeah, I had been afraid, terrified even. I had never seen Pops so infuriated.

"Will you tell us?" Alice asked in a quiet, hesitant voice, sounding so unlike herself I acquiesced without a single thought.

"I-I've, well, I've never seen Pops so-so furious," I began to recount, my eyes closing as my mind automatically went back to Friday. I heard as my siblings closed in around me, Rosalie giving my hand a comforting squeeze.

"I mean, I know I was givin' him a hard time, being my usual dumb self and all, but I'd never seen him so upset. He wouldn't listen to me," I recalled, the hurt I felt at the moment returning full force. I felt a soothing wave pass through me and flashed Jasper a brief smile. "I was trying to explain to him what happened, but he told me he didn't want to hear it anymore. He said he was fed up with all of our antics and that he was going to make an example of me. I tried to reason with him, but I only angered him more. I-I, well…," I trailed off, giving a nervous swallow as I rubbed a hand over my face. I wasn't so sure I wanted to say this out loud as I looked into the concerned faces of my mate and siblings.

"I was afraid of him," I finally whispered as I stared down at my shoes, my emotions varying between sadness, hurt, anger, and embarrassment. Rosalie let out a fierce growl, muttering quiet threats against Pops while my siblings remained silent. When Rosalie finally fell silent I mustered up the courage to look up and continue speaking.

"He scared me," I stated, my tone much stronger than before. "After I shoved him away from me, there was a-a moment where I thought-where I thought that he was going to knock my lights out," I admitted, noting the renewed anger in Rose's eyes, the horror in Alice's eyes, the betrayal in Edward's eyes, and the sadness in Jasper's eyes.

There were several moments of silence where we each digested what I had said. Did Pops abuse me? He didn't smack me around or anything, and he certainly wanted to from the looks of it. I mean he did slap me, but that was only once. The whipping hurt more than anything, but would I call it abuse? What was I feeling at the time, I asked myself.

Thinking back I recalled how I felt nothing more than fear, hurt, and pain, over agonizing pain. I'd been smacked with the belt a time or two before and it'd never hurt like this, and he'd never smacked me with it so many times. He never once spoke while he was punishing me, and he never once gave me a reassuring word or gesture. To be honest, I never once thought about what had gotten me into that position while I was being punished. In fact, I really didn't feel like I was being punished at all. I only felt, well, I only felt as though I were getting a beating. Damn Pops, I thought in despair. Why? Why did you do that? What did I do to deserve that?

"It wasn't your fault," two voices spoke at once, and my attention focused on Edward and Jasper.

"Don't blame yerself," Jasper stated. "I don't know all the details and I didn't 'see' what happened, but I know nuthin' ya did warranted Carlisle treating ya like that."

"Dad was in the wrong," Edward spoke in a soft, dejected tone. "His worst fear became a reality. He did abuse you."

I registered their words, but I still couldn't help but blame myself. If I wasn't—If I hadn't—If maybe I'd…Sigh.

"There had to have been something I could have done," I told them, "something to have gotten him to stop or gotten him to calm down. I was angry with him in the beginning so I was riling him up"—

"Still not your fault," Rosalie declared firmly, her eyes softening as she looked up at me. "You acted like yourself Emmett. It was Carlisle who lost his temper and took things too far."

I nodded my head, bringing her in for a gentle embrace all the while still feeling guilty. If Pops—No, _when_ Pops came back, and if he wasn't too angry with me I'd have to talk to him and apologize; and then I'd kick his sorry butt for hurting me like that.

"I wish Mom would call," Alice suddenly stated, and we all gave nods of agreement.

"I wonder what's happening," I mentioned, and Alice just let out a groan of frustration.

"If only I hadn't promised Mom not to look into their futures!" she complained, stomping her foot in irritation. Jasper laid a calming hand on her while saying, "Can you at least look into our futures and see when Mom calls?"

Alice blinked at him before closing her eyes and concentration. I knew she had good news when both she and Edward gave smiles of relief.

"Is Pops coming home?" I immediately asked, and Alice's smile vanished to be replaced with a frown.

"I still don't know that, but I do know that Mom is going to be calling at noon today," she said.

"Do you know what she is going to say?" Rosalie asked curiously, and Alice gave a slight shake of her head.

"I'm not sure," she answered unhappily. "It's kind of fuzzy, which means things are obviously still being decided, but I do get the feeling that she's going back and forth on whether or not to ask us to join her and Dad wherever they are."

"So Dad still hasn't decided to come home," Edward mumbled morosely, his eyes shadowed with darkness. I felt another stab of guilt at seeing my brother like this. I mean he was usually all moody and such, but never this much. Putting my arm on his shoulder, I gave him a light shove as I told him, "Pops will come home, I promise you that Edward. Even if we gotta drag him back kicking and screaming," I said with a slight smirk at the mental image that created in my mind, "we'll get him here." Edward gave me a small smile.

"Emmetts right," Alice added with a firm nod of her head. "I don't need a vision to tell me that. Dad loves us. He's just feeling guilty, and I know Mom will be able to help him; and if he needs more incentive she'll call in the cavalry, meaning us to get through his thick head. Our family means the world to Dad, and he would die rather than hurt any of us."

"But if leaving meant he'd be protectin' us, then would he come home?" Jasper asked, and I wanted to slug the idiot because Edward's eyes once more turned downcast. "Sorry," he added upon noting my glare and angry emotions, "I'm just statin' what you were all probably thinkin'. I know Dad would do anything to protect us, which is why I wouldn't put it past him to stay away if it meant he was keepin' us safe. If he saw himself as a danger to us, then he wouldn't come back."

"But he's not a danger to us," I retorted, and Jasper just shrugged his shoulders.

"I know that," he responded, "but does Dad? I think the only way we're gonna be able to convince him to come home is if we all, especially you Em, talk to him. If he's worried that he might hurt one of us again like he did you Emmett, then we'll need to convince him otherwise."

"Well, seeing as we don't know where he's at, we're going to have to wait for Mom to call," I said, and sighs were heard all around before we all went back to our previous positions.

Waiting. Waiting.

Please call soon Mom, I thought pleadingly as I felt the anxiety in the room kick up a notch.

**Carlisle's POV:**

I was unsure of how long it had been, but I finally felt myself coming under some semblance of control. As I took in several shaky breaths, I took stock of the situation. I was lying in Esme's arms, my face buried into her chest. Her blouse was soaked with my tears, and I felt a mild twinge of guilt knowing I had effectively ruined it. She was humming a lovely tune, one that I had heard her hum to the children on a variety of occasions, the most prominent memory being of her singing to a highly distressed Edward many years ago. It had been shortly after his return from his 'rebellious' years and Esme had held him in her arms, much like she was doing for me and hummed this song to him as he cried to her.

The next thing I noticed was that we were lying on our bed, which confirmed the fuzzy memory I had of her nearly carrying me in here after my, well after my punishment was finished. I stifled a groan of embarrassment as the memory of the punishment came back full force.

"Are you alright Carlisle?" my wife asked, her hand stilling halfway through my hair. I could hear the concern in her voice, but I could also hear a hint of distress and I suddenly felt renewed guilt for what I had forced her to do. What must she think of me? What must she be feeling? Is she still upset with me? Have I disappointed her? Angered her?

"I am so sorry," I murmured repentantly into her neck and she responded by sighing before forcing my head up so that I was looking into her face. Her eyes were kind and loving, but also sad as she tenderly wiped at my face, removing the last of my tears.

"And you are forgiven," she replied softly yet firmly. I swallowed the lump in my throat as I just nodded my head, thinking over what the simple statement meant. She said I was forgiven, but had I forgiven myself? Had this worked? Was I feeling any less guilty than before?

I took stock of my emotions and found that I felt calmer and more relaxed than I had in a while. I was far from perfect, but I no longer felt the crushing weight of guilt I had felt earlier today. The guilt was still there of course, but I had not expected it to vanish. I still had to make amends with my children, Emmett especially before I would be able to let go, and even then I had a feeling this would be a guilt I harbored for the rest of my existence. It would not consume me as it had earlier, but I would not allow it to leave. I would hold onto it as a constant reminder so that I would never allow myself to treat any of my children in the deplorable manner I had treated Emmett.

"How do you feel?" Esme then asked as she sat up, pulling me up with her. I was opening my mouth to answer when my backside touched the mattress. I immediately froze, clamping my mouth shut tightly to keep from making a sound as I tried to process and deal with the pain. Bloody hell, but that stung something fierce!

"Carlisle, what is it? What's wrong?" Esme burst out rapidly in clear worry. "What is it?"

I closed my eyes briefly as I shook my head at her. "I'm fine," I managed to say through gritted teeth, but this was the wrong response as my dear, sweet Esme's face closed off momentarily before she let out a hiss as she got up off the bed and began to pace. I stared at her with wide eyes as I too quickly got myself up off the bed, all too happy to relieve the burn. I watched nervously as Esme paced back a forth a few times before stiffening when she shot me a frigid glare. Stalking on over to me, I resisted the urge to back away when she stood before me with crossed arms.

"What did I do?" I asked without thought, but apparently that was also the wrong thing to say because she let out a frustrated yell before launching into a tirade.

"I cannot believe you Carlisle Cullen!" she snapped angrily, and I decided it would be best for me to remain silent at this point. Best to let her get this off her chest, I thought. "You completely freeze, snapping your mouth shut as though in pain, and when I ask you what the matter is you answer fine! Fine? Really Carlisle?" she questioned angrily with hands on her hips.

"I am _tired_ of you hiding your pain from me! I am _tired_ of you keeping things from me because _you_ feel I cannot handle them! I am _tired _of you trying to protect me! Be _honest_ with me Carlisle! No matter how much it will hurt me, I swear to you it hurts even more to know you are keeping things from me. It hurts me even more to know you are dealing with pain or hurt on your own because you are worried of how it will affect me," she lectured, her anger leaving the more she spoke only to be replaced with hurt, frustration, and fatigue. She sounded so tired and so spent.

She was right, of course. She had all the right in the world to be angry with me. I did have a habit of keeping things from her, but it was always with the best intentions.

Well, have you not heard the expression, 'the road to hell is paved with good intentions'? I gave a mental frown at that thought.

"I am deeply sorry Esme," I informed her guiltily when she had finally calmed herself down. "I don't know why I am this way. I don't mean to shut you out, and I definitely don't believe you to be too weak to handle my troubles," I hurried to assure her, but she just gazed at me with sad, pitying eyes.

"You don't know why?" she questioned in disbelief, and I gave a confused shake of my head.

"Darling," she spoke softly as she made her way over to me, "this is all a result of your childhood, of the abuse you suffered at the hands of Samuel. Don't you see?" she asked, and I immediately tensed, not wanting to get into this discussion at all.

"Do not do this," my wife quickly pleaded as she ran one hand up my stomach while the other forced me to look at her. "Do not close yourself off to me anymore. Do not try and stop this discussion because it _needs_ to happen. You _need_ to talk about this Carlisle, and there is no time like the present."

"I do not need to talk about anything," I protested stiffly, but she just shook her head at me.

"You are so blind and pigheaded," she muttered as she let go of my face, and I gave her an offended look, causing her to smile slightly.

"It's true," she assured me. "You fail to see the impact Samuel has had and continues to have in your life. You have told me that you long ago dealt with your past, but I am here to tell you that you are wrong. You did not deal with anything, you only buried it. Buried it so deeply you became unaware your demons were still there. You are an expert at hiding what you are feeling, and an expert at deception. You are such an expert you have not only fooled me and our children, but you have even fooled yourself."

I frowned at her words, a part of me believing, but an even larger part of me not wanting to believe. "No Esme," I countered, "you're wrong. What happened during my punishment was a one time occurrence. I barely even think about Samuel anymore," I assured her, but even as I said the words I wasn't quite sure I was telling the truth. Samuel had been on my thoughts several times these past few days.

"You are lying," Esme retorted with such certainty I knew there was no point in denying it. Further lies would only infuriate and disappoint her, and I had done enough of that in the past few days to last a lifetime.

"You don't even realize how badly you have been affected, do you?" she then pressed when I failed to respond. I had no idea what to say to that, so I broke away from her and took a few steps towards the window. I looked out and noticed it was dark. What time was it? What day was it? I could still see rain, but it was only a drizzle, and it seemed the wind had died down too. My mind unconsciously flashed back to the memory I had been reliving recently before I forcefully brought myself back to the present. No Carlisle, I scolded myself, live in the here and now. Quit focusing on the past. The past is meant to stay there. It cannot hurt you.

I gripped the windowsill with both hands as I repeated these words to myself, but it did not help me. In fact, the more I repeated those words the more I could not help but realize how false they were. The past could not hurt me? Yeah right, it hurt me all the time. _He_ still hurt me all the time. Just look at yesterday. Look at that memory and how it affected me. I got lost in that memory how many times? And during my punishment as well!

I heard a loud snap and uttered a quiet curse as I realized I had broken off a piece of the windowsill. Quickly turning towards Esme to offer yet another apology, I fell silent at the utter helplessness on her face. Had I caused this?

"What is it?" I asked, knowing I was the cause but at the same time hoping I was wrong.

"You," she answered in a despairing tone, and I could not help but flinch. "I don't know how to help you Carlisle if you refuse to acknowledge the fact that your father left more than physical scars on you. Are you truly so blind or are you just being stubborn?" she asked, more to herself than to me.

'I'm fine', I wanted to scream to her, but I was realizing more and more what a bold face lie that was. Was I really so blind or simply being stubborn? I truly did believe I had dealt with my past, that I had overcome it, but had I really? Or had I done as Esme had said and just buried it so deep within me that I had not realized it was even there? I was an excellent liar, I had been since boyhood, but was I so good that I had fooled even myself? Had I really been lying to myself all these years?

I turned my back on Esme to once more stare out into the forest. It was slightly lighter than before, which led me to the conclusion that it was early morning. It must be Sunday, I mused distractedly before refocusing my thoughts once more.

Why did Esme want to discuss my father? Was it because of the flashback? That could have been a onetime occurrence brought upon by the circumstances we were in. Perfectly acceptable considering my upbringing, so there was really no need to discuss this seeing as I never planned on ending up in that position ever again.

But why did she believe I needed help? Was I truly that affected by my father? I will admit he had been plaguing my mind quite frequently as of late, but that was not the norm. I did think of him every now and then but I would not say he negatively affected me. I just used my memories of him to keep from acting like him.

Was that true though? Did he really no longer negatively affect me? How many times had I wallowed in self pity because I felt I had acted like him? How many times had I heard his voice cruelly ridiculing me as he had done in life? How many times had events in my life triggered memories of him? How many times had I lost myself in my human memories? And did they not always include Samuel?

I let out a weary sigh and leaning into the windowsill, careful this time not to grip the wood too tightly.

Why was this relevant right now? Could she not see that I was not in the right frame of mind to be discussing this? My emotions had been haywire for over a week now, and I had completely lost control of them today. I was emotionally and mentally spent. I would not be able to stand talking about Samuel without losing my temper or breaking down and crying.

My mind flashed to Sarah and her glaring, accusatory eyes as I shot her. I had killed her. I had killed that innocent woman. She had not been the first person I had seen killed. She had not even been the first person I had led to their death by means of capture. She had been the first person I myself had killed though.

A shiver passed through my body, and I immediately released my grip from the windowsill as I did not want to cause anymore damage. Tears prickled at my eyes and I found it much harder than usual to keep them at bay. I figured with all the crying I had just done my tears would have been spent, but it seemed they wanted to keep flowing.

How could I tell Esme about this event? How could I tell my children? What would they think of me? I had no excuse. I was not a vampire at that time, whose very nature compelled them to feed on humans. I was a human myself. I had no excuse.

I closed my eyes and became dismayed at how easily I was beginning to remember more and more of my human life. Nearly all of the memories included my father, and very few were what I would consider a happy memory. I wondered why I was suddenly recalling so much, and I decided the events with Emmett must have triggered something.

Unlike Rosalie, I had allowed the transformation to take nearly all my memories from me. I had been all too happy to forget Samuel, to forget the abuse, and to forget the atrocities I had been a part of and committed. I had been all too happy to forget all the lives I had ruined.

As the years went on I had found myself remembering little bits here and there. When Edward first joined me I had recalled more, and as my family continued to grow I sporadically gained a new lost memory here and there. Since Friday, however, I had gained an influx, the memory with Sarah being the worst.

Why? Why did I have to remember all this? Was this God's way of punishing me? Was he warning me?

I stiffened suddenly when I felt a delicate hand run along my back. Relaxing when I realized it was just Esme I turned around and wrapped my arms around her. I buried my head in her hair as she ran her hand up and down my back in a comforting gesture. I was shaking slightly, and I inwardly cursed myself for showing such vulnerability.

Do not be ashamed, another part of be retorted with confidence. Esme does not and will not ever look down on you for needing comfort. She loves you, and all she wants to do is help you. Let her in. _Let her in!_

Look at this from her point of view. Your stubbornness is causing her more harm than good. Think back and remember how broken Esme was over the loss of her infant son. Remember how traumatized she was by the abuse she had suffered at the hands of her vile husband. Did she shut you out? Did she try and hide her feelings from you?

I allowed my mind to drift back to those first few years with Esme when our relationship was still so new and we were both still so fearful of saying or doing the wrong thing. From the moment Esme had first awoken to this life I had seen the negative impact her life had on her. I had seen how a once vivacious and lively young woman had been turned into someone who was quiet, meek, and compliant. I knew part of this could be attributed to her experiences, but I also remembered fearing that she may have been afraid of or resentful of me. Thank God for Edward.

My dear son had been a godsend in those days. With is ability he had been able to reassure me that Esme held no ill will towards me at all. He had given me the basic gist of what Esme had suffered, deciding to keep the more morbid details to himself. The details he had given me though were more than enough.

I did not set out to force Esme to talk about anything at first. I just helped her adjust to this new life while at the same time showing her that not all men were cruel. I spent quite a bit of time with her, and more quickly than I would have imagined I found myself quite smitten. Truthfully, I had not quite realized how enamored I was until one evening Edward, no doubt irritated by all my 'lovey dovey' thoughts as he called it, shouted "If you love her so much then just tell her for God's sake, Carlisle!"

Anyhow, after coming to terms with my feelings and eventually finding out to my eternal joy that Esme felt the same way I slowly began to extricate little details of her human life from her. She was quite private, and I had no desire to push her away, so I never pressed the matter. I knew she was still affected by all that had happened to her, but I had no idea how deeply those mental scars went, at least not until one day I arrived home to find Edward yelling at her. He had been angrily accusing her of having stolen one of his books and had either failed to notice or did not care that Esme stood frozen, staring at him with wide, fearful eyes full of apology. She did not even try to defend herself or refute Edward's false accusations, for his precious book had not been stolen; it had been borrowed by me.

Having seen more than enough I had furiously interrupted my son's tirade, a small argument ensuing between us before I had landed a rather harsh swat on the boy's backside and sent him to his room. Once he had complied I had turned and taken a step towards Esme only to become horrified when she flinched, her wide, fearful eyes directed towards me now.

I had immediately taken several steps away from her, holding my hands up to show her I meant no harm while at the same time kneeling on the floor. I had wanted to appear as nonthreatening as possible, and it had thankfully worked for she had lost the fearful look. She still eyed me warily, but I had been able to convince her that I meant no harm and that I would _never ever_ lay a hand on her out of anger. When she finally believed me she had broken into tears, deeply ashamed of her reaction. She had been fearful that I would look down on her because of this, or that I would see her as too broken, but I had somehow fallen in love with her even more.

After showering her with reassurances, love, and plenty of affection we had discussed what had happened with Edward. She confessed that Edward's angry outburst had caused her mind to flash back to Charles and that truthfully she had no idea what Edward had even been upset about because her mind had been in another time. My abrupt entrance had startled her back to the present, but my apparent fury at the situation had scared her. I gently pressed her for more details, and she admitted that she thought I would be angry with her for having upset Edward. However, she then recounted how she had become confused when I had begun to berate Edward, only to become fearful once more when she saw me hit him.

I groaned internally at the mere memory of that. Esme had been convinced at that point that I was abusing Edward, which is why she had turned fearful eyes towards me. She had felt that she too was about to be hit. I had been appalled by her thoughts and had immediately set about disavowing her of those horrible notions. It had taken a _very_ long discussion though, and Edward's input before I had been able to convince her that I had not and would not ever abuse Edward. It had then taken even longer before she had been able to accept that I would be spanking Edward for his treatment of her. Once again Edward had been of great service in convincing her, but I was sure he did it more as a means of trying to soften me up so as to save his backside rather than pure selflessness.

Anyways, after this whole debacle ended I had felt it necessary to convince Esme to talk with me, and to explain what had happened to her and how she had felt. It had not been easy or pleasant, but it had worked. I had been able to help her battle some demons, and slowly but surely I watched as Esme became lively, exuberant, and confident. I really knew our talks had helped when several months after the incident she had felt secure enough to stand up to me in order to protect 'her precious baby' (her words, not mine) from a good hiding. I had been so elated by the fearlessness in her eyes as she stared me down that I had immediately decided to give in. I had put up a fight, just for pretenses, but I had allowed her to win. I gave a mental grin as I recalled the look of awe Edward had sported upon hearing my decision and the new found respect he had for Esme. Their relationship had grown much closer after that day.

Bringing my mind back to the present I realized how unfair I had been with my wife. She had shared her worst memories with me and had held nothing back. Even though she had been afraid of what I may have thought she had fearlessly recounted her horrible memories. I on the other hand had not been so open with her. The day Esme had discovered the scars on my back had been the first time I had ever informed her of anything regarding my human life; and even then I had given her minimal details. I had convinced her that the past did not affect me, and she had no reason not to believe me.

I was a coward, I realized with deepening shame. I was afraid to reveal my past because I did not want Esme or my children to view me any differently. I knew how they all looked to me for guidance and comfort. I knew how they all thought I did no wrong. The children always described me as perfect, and while I always argued with them that I was not, I really enjoyed how highly they regarded me. They felt there was nothing I could not overcome and that there was no challenge I could not deal with. But they were wrong, so very wrong.

Each member of my family had suffered trauma during their human lives. Esme had been abused by her husband and lost a child. Edward had lost both his parents and nearly his own life to influenza. Rosalie had been raped by her fiancé and his friends. Emmett had been nearly mauled to death by a grizzly bear. Alice had woken up alone with no memory of who she was. Jasper had experienced war in both lives, suffering at the hand of an abusive, manipulative creator that played with his emotions.

These traumas left their scars, some physical, but mostly mental. It had taken time and patience, but I, along with Esme had been able to help every member overcome their demons. Each time different methods had to be used along with lots of patience, but we had been successful. While my children would never forget the horrors of their past, they had learned to overcome and move past them. I would never claim they were 100% alright. They never would be, but they knew, my wife included that they could come to me if they ever needed to talk. They knew I would listen and not judge, which was usually the most important thing to them. They knew I would never look down on them or consider them weak for what had happened, or for the fact that they needed help or just a good cry.

Should I not allow myself the same courtesy? Should I not feel comfortable enough to talk to someone?

I should not need to, a part of me protested. I should be able to deal with this all on my own!

Did I expect Esme or the kids to deal with their problems on their own? Would I want them to suffer alone?

No, of course not! But I am not them. I am the patriarch of our family. They look to me for strength, comfort, and guidance. I cannot come across as weak or vulnerable.

Is it a weakness to ask for help—to talk about one's problems? I just stated that I did not judge my wife and children, so why did I judge myself so harshly?

_Because you do not deserve the same privileges as the others, a vile voice hissed in my mind. Your weakness disgusts me and will disgust them. You open yourself up to them and they will see how horrible a person you really are. _

I stiffened before hastily breaking away from Esme. Running a shaky hand through my hair I paced the length of the room like a caged animal, shaking my head and rubbing at my eyes with the palm of my hands in an attempt to rid myself of Samuel's hateful words. He's lying. He doesn't know anything. He's wrong!

_Wrong, am I? the voice sneered in scornful amusement. You know I speak the truth, Boy. That is why you have barely spoken of your past. You know they will hate you for what you have done._

NO! I screamed mentally as I shut my eyes and shook my head. That is _not_ true!

I flinched when I felt hands grabbing hold of my arms before beginning to struggle, dimly noting as someone shouted my name.

_They will discover what an utter fake and failure you are, Carlisle. They will see you for the monster you truly are, and then they will hate you just as I do!_

Hands continued grabbing onto me and in a burst of fury and panic I roughly shoved my attacker off of me.

It was the cry of pain (or was it surprise?) of a woman that finally caused me to open my eyes, and when I did absolute horror coursed through me as I stared wide-eyed at my wife who was lying on the floor staring back at me equally wide-eyed.

My mind went blank with shock as I found myself incapable of processing what I had just done. Esme it seemed had no such problems for she slowly stood up, brushing off some of the debris that had fallen on her when she had crashed into the bookshelf.

"Carlisle?" she called softly, and it was her voice that finally jump started my brain.

Oh. My. God. Oh my God. _Oh my God!_ What did I just do? I-I _struck_ my wife! I _hurt_ my wife! First my son and now my wife! Horror, guilt, sorrow, terror, and panic quickly seized me and my muscles tensed as I prepared to run.

"Carlisle, it is alright darling. I am unharmed—Carlisle Cullen, _do not run_!" Esme ordered sharply when I had turned towards the doorway. I froze, unsure of why I was listening before deciding that running would be cowardly. If she was furious with me then I should accept whatever she did or said to me like a man.

**Esme's POV:**

My mind was reeling with what had just happened. I had been comforting Carlisle when he had suddenly stiffened and pulled away from me. I had watched as he had paced, rubbed his eyes and shook his head. He looked distressed so I had walked over and grabbed his hands to take them away from his face, but he had fought me. I had called his name, but it was like he could not hear me. Fearing he was experiencing another flashback I had continued to try and get his attention, but he had reacted by shoving me into the bookshelf.

I had certainly been shocked, but completely unharmed. Staring up at my wide-eyed husband I knew right away that from the look of horror in his eyes that this had been a complete accident. I knew he would never hurt me, but I also knew Carlisle was most likely panicking right now. With what happened with Emmett, and the emotional turmoil of our discussion and his punishment, I had no doubt Carlisle was being far from rational. That was why I had immediately zoned in on his desire to run and had put an abrupt stop to it. I will admit to being somewhat surprised that he had listened, but I was grateful. Carlisle was faster than me, and I had no doubt that if he wanted to get away from me he would succeed.

"Carlisle, I am not angry with you," I told him softly when he had finally turned to face me once more. His eyes were pitch black again and looked so haunted I just wanted to cry. His face was so full of pain and sorrow, and he looked absolutely terrified, which cut me right to the core. He was afraid of my reaction. My husband, my rock was _afraid_ of what I was about to do.

"It's alright darling, I am perfectly fine. I am not angry and I am not going to hurt you," I told him in a quiet, gentle voice as I inched towards him in a nonthreatening manner. He blinked, his face losing some of the terror but he continued to remain frozen. I inched forward a little more, my heart nearly breaking as his wide eyes, so full of guilt that just begged for forgiveness, followed my every movement. He looked very much like a young boy waiting to be struck.

Once I stood before him I slowly grabbed one of his hands with mine before even more slowly reaching up a hand towards his face. Ignoring the way his body tensed and the nearly imperceptible flinch he gave I rested my hand on his cheek before moving it to the back of his neck. Pulling his head down slightly so that our foreheads touched I lovingly looked into his apologetic eyes I stated, "I love you Carlisle, and you have my forgiveness." I wanted to say that he had done nothing that needed my forgiveness, but I knew his guilty conscience would never accept that.

My heartfelt, simple words seemed to have gotten through to him for pure, unadulterated relief seemed to pour off of him as a few tears trailed down his face.

"Esme," he moaned, but I shushed him as I brought up my other hand and ran it up the back of his hair.

"Everything is fine Carlisle, everything is fine," I reassured him, but he just shook his head, more tears beginning to fall as he thickly retorted, "No, it's not." And with that, his shoulders began to shake and he closed his eyes as he began to cry. His legs seemed to give out shortly afterwards because we then found ourselves on the floor, me seated and he lying down with his head buried in my lap.

**A/N: **I bet you thought all the angst was over, didn't you? Well, I did warn you that this story had tons of it! Carlisle had nearly dealt with the guilt of what happened with Emmett, but now it's time to deal with his past. Get ready for several more angst filled chapters! AND PLEASE REVIEW! Your delightful comments keep me writing! :D


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Twilight.

**Warning:** This story contains _**disciplinary spanking**_ so if you don't like/approve of this, then _**don't**_** bother reading or flaming**!

**A/N: **Sorry for the late update, but work went MUCH later than I anticipated...ugh! Quick and ENORMOUS thank you to those few who take the time to review, I GREATLY appreciate each and every single one!

**Chapter 12: Past**

**Esme's POV:**

For the second time today I held my husband close to me in an attempt to offer him all the comfort and reassurances I could. To be honest, I had been taken aback when he had begun to cry. It had been incredibly difficult getting him to cry during his spanking, and I had to continue on longer than I had wanted to before I had been able to get through to him. I then had to encourage him to let everything go and that was when he had begun to sob. Despite all my assurances that Carlisle need not be ashamed of his tears, I knew him well enough to know that no matter what I said he would still feel ashamed; and for that reason he would never cry in front of me again. That was why when he had begun to cry once more I had been surprised.

If I had to gander a guess I would say that these tears were not just as a result of these past few days events. I had a feeling my insistence with him to discuss his childhood had brought forth lots of old wounds that had never healed. Carlisle did not deal with his pain, he hid it away, and that thought boggled my mind. My dear, compassionate husband who had helped me and our children deal with all the pain we had endured during our lives could not do the same with himself. How he had managed to hold together for so long was beyond me, but I supposed it was just a testament to his strength of will, or sheer pig-headedness.

Carlisle had had a long life prior to creating our family, nearly two and a half centuries, and I had little idea what had occurred during those years. His mother had died giving birth to him and he had been raised by a strict, overbearing, abusive father. His father had been a pastor who made it his life's works to hunt down supposed witches, vampires, and werewolves, and he had raised Carlisle to follow in his footsteps. Carlisle grew up hating what his father did, but still chose to be what Samuel raised him to be. Perhaps it was familial obligation, or a product of the times he was living in. I certainly had no room to talk as I had stayed with an abusive husband because the scandal that would have been caused by a divorce was too great for my parents to bear. I had been told to grin and bear it, and to continue being a good wife; and I had done just that until I found out I was pregnant.

So Carlisle had continued Samuel's work, proving to be far more intelligent than his father ever was for he actually found a real coven of vampires. While leading a hunt for these vampires he had been bitten. Fearing for his life, he had then dragged himself into a potato cellar and endured the pain of the transformation in complete and utter silence. Upon waking he knew right away what he had become so he had promptly fled civilization. It still boggled my mind how he was able to resist the urge to feed on any of the humans nearby. He then tried multiple times to kill himself before realizing it was impossible. Hiding out in the deep recesses of the forest, he hoped to starve himself but that too proved impossible for when his thirst became too much he had pounced on a herd of deer that had been passing by. Realizing that he could sustain himself on the blood of animals he had begun to feel a little less like a monster.

What happened over the next two and a half centuries I really had very little idea. He wandered from place to place, reading and studying all the books he never could in life. He had been constantly in search of companions but found most vampires to be quite savage and uncivilized. Sometime in the 1700s he had discovered the Volturi and lived with them for a time. It was there that he had been bitten with the desire to become a doctor, and so he had pursued his studies. When the cruelty of the Volturi became too much for him though he left and sailed here to the New World, hoping that perhaps now he would finally be able to find the companionship he so desired. But it was not to be. My husband would wander alone for nearly two more centuries before he would meet his first companion, dying of Spanish influenza in a hospital in Chicago, Illinois. His life would change completely after that, and for the better I would say.

This was all I knew of Carlisle's life. Everything from the moment I had first been turned I knew in startling detail as I had been a part of all his experiences. Everything before though was lacking in detail. I knew a bit more detail when it came to Carlisle and Edward's early years, but even then I did not know as much as one would expect. Carlisle did not talk about his past. I didn't know if it was because he did not like to or if he was ashamed or afraid to, but he _rarely_ brought up events from his past. When it came to my life though, or the children's, Carlisle knew nearly every detail. My husband was so inquisitive and he loved hearing what we remembered of our pasts. It did not matter how insignificant the detail, he was always ready to hear what we had to say.

I gave Carlisle a loving gaze as I smoothed his fair hair, feeling as his tears soaked my blouse once more. I hummed to him a soft melody that I sometimes used on the children when they were particularly distressed. I found that the music helped calm them as it had calmed me during my childhood years. My mother used to sing to me nearly every night as I went to sleep, and this particular tune was one she used when I was crying from a nightmare, a scraped knee, and even after a spanking. My little melody worked on me and the kids just as Carlisle's lullaby worked on himself and his little girls.

Rubbing a hand into Carlisle's tensed shoulders I gazed at his back feeling a familiar pain as I noted his unhealed scars. How badly did you have to be beaten to gain scars venom could not heal? _Why—How_ could your own father do this to you? _How_ did you become such a wonderful, caring person when you were raised by a true monster? _How much_ pain and suffering did you have to withstand as a child? I stared down at his tearful face, once more noting how incredibly young he looked and I had no trouble picturing him as a child.

I closed my eyes briefly and imagined Carlisle as an eight year old boy. His hair is longer and unruly as if he has been playing and running around recently. He impatiently brushes a strand of it out of his face revealing startling blue eyes. He gives me a wide, toothy grin and I can see a hint of mischievousness twinkling in those eyes as if he had just been up to no good. However, despite the boyish grin as I look deeper into his eyes I can also see sadness and loss of innocence. I can see pain and loneliness. His eyes reveal him to be aged beyond his years, and I can sense a maturity about him, an intelligence as though he has already realized that life is hard and far from fair. Despite that though, or perhaps in spite of that his grin remains. He gives a loud, child-like laugh, the spark of mischievousness growing stronger and I almost forget what I previously saw as he now seems to be like any normal little boy. This is his façade, I realize. This is the mask he learned at such a young age to present to the crowd so that no one sees what he is truly feeling.

I felt a lump form in my throat as I opened my eyes to once more stare down at him. His tears had stopped, but the hurt he had been feeling was still clearly visible. He had dropped his mask completely, I realized. He was not hiding anymore.

I brushed away lingering tears, content to sit here with him in silence for as long as he wanted to. I could tell by the look on his face that he was deep in thought and I wanted to give him as much time as he needed. When he was ready to speak I would be ready to listen.

We sat like this for half an hour before Carlisle finally spoke. He did not move from his position or even turn his head up to me. He just spoke. "You are right," he began quietly. "My past, my _father_ continues to hurt me. I thought I had dealt with my past, but as you mentioned earlier I had only buried it. He—I still hear him," he whispered in a pained voice. I remained silent, not wanting to stop him now that he had started.

Carlisle fell silent once more, his jaw tightening and un-tightening as he gathered his thoughts. Eventually he pushed himself up and gave a surprised hiss when his backside made contact with the floor. Immediately jumping to his feet, I followed suit feeling an upwelling of guilt as I watched him rub his smarting backside before abruptly stopping, a look of embarrassment crossing his features. Now I realized what had caused him to jump off the bed earlier, I mused silently as a new worry began to seize me. Was I too hard on him? Did I hit too hard? I gave a short shake of my head to quickly banish these thoughts. There would be time for these concerns later. Right now I had to focus on the issue of hand.

My husband avoided my gaze for several moments of silence before I gently prodded him to speak with a touch to the arm. When he looked at me I showed him that he had nothing to fear. I did not feel amusement or disdain with his discomfort so he had no reason to feel embarrassed.

It seemed my message was received when his expression morphed into a sheepish one before once more becoming serious.

"You said you can still hear him," I prompted, and he frowned as he gave a single nod.

"Yes," he responded hoarsely, "I can still hear him. It's not often, well, except for these past few days, but I…" he trailed off, nervously running a hand through his hair.

"What does he say to you?" I decided to ask, immediately noting the pained, slightly scared look that crossed his face as he looked at me.

"Horrible things," he responded hollowly, and I wanted to demand he give me more details but I instead just remained silent. This was extremely difficult for him and I should be just as patient as he was with me; and so I remained silent, just waiting for him to continue.

"He criticizes me just as he did in life," he began once more as he turned and walked a few steps away. "He insults and belittles me, telling me that I am a failure, worthless, weak, pathetic, cowardly, and a disappointment. He tells me how much he hates me, and…," he swallowed nervously at this point and took in a huge breath. Turning his face back towards me he then said, "And he tells me that I am undeserving of you and the children. That I have failed you and that if you knew about my past and the things I had done that you would hate me too."

I sucked in a surprised breath, shocked and disturbed by the horrid things Carlisle had been telling himself. How could he be so hard on himself? How could he think such horrid things? How could he be so blind as to the amazing person that he was?

Carlisle stared at me with a dejected expression, clearly waiting for me to say something. I stared straight back at him with caring eyes before I worriedly asked, "You know everything he tells you is wrong, don't you?"

He let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair as he answered, "Yes, of course I do—I mean most of the time, well…I don't know. At first I didn't, but the more he belittles me the more I cannot help believing him," he admitted shamefully, looking at me with mournful eyes.

"Why Carlisle?" I then asked. "Why do you believe what he says to you?"

Carlisle grimaced before just shrugging his shoulders, and I frowned as I contemplated what to say.

"Carlisle," I finally spoke in a stunned tone, a sudden realization having hit me, "You have _always_ believed his words, haven't you? You truly see yourself as weak, as a disappointment, and undeserving of me and our children."

His expression immediately turned outraged and he shook his head as he opened his mouth to no doubt refute me, but the words never came. Instead, he slowly closed his mouth, his eyes revealing the internal debate he was having before his expression then turned defeated.

"Yes," he stated in nearly a whisper, "_yes_." I said nothing for a few moments as I allowed him time to come to grips with this revelation. He looked completely shaken by his admittance, and he walked a few paces before putting a steadying hand on the wall as if to hold himself up.

"I have always believed what he said to me," he eventually began to inform me, "but I have also always tried to refute his accusations. There was a part of me that knew my father was wrong, but there was another part of me that could not help but agree. If I had not been so weak, pathetic, or disappointing then he would have loved me. If I had not been such a failure or disgrace, then maybe he would not have hurt me so much." He paused, taking in a few shaky breaths, and I bit back the urge to offer words of comfort. I had to allow him time to speak.

"I dealt with his hateful words and actions by convincing myself that I didn't need or want his love or affections. I convinced myself that his opinions meant nothing. But really I failed at that. I lied to myself, and on the surface I was able to act like I no longer cared what he did to me, but deep down I did care, I cared _a lot_." Carlisle turned his head towards me and with a wry look stated, "You can only be told something so many times before you stop refuting and start believing."

"You had no one to turn to?" I questioned, doing the best I could to keep the pain out of my voice. "No friends or other adults who you could have confided in? Did no one know or realize what Samuel did to you?"

My husband dropped his hand, turned towards me and placed his back on the wall, grimacing slightly as his backside no doubt hit the wall. "Esme," he sighed, "it was different times and my father was well at liberty to treat me in any manner he wanted to." I frowned as I mentally kicked myself, once more reminding myself of my parents' reactions to the abuse I suffered from Charles. 'Take it in silence', they had said. 'Just be a good and dutiful wife, and keep quiet'.

"I actually never realized I was being treated wrongly until I witnessed the relationship between James and his father, but even then I was unaware of the extent of how bad I had it," Carlisle continued speaking, glancing down at his feet briefly before staring out our window. "The older I got, the worse things seemed to me, but it really was not until I myself became a father that I truly understood how _horrible_ his treatment of me really was."

I noted as Carlisle's fists tightened, his mind no doubt in another place before I asked, "How horrible?" Even though I was afraid to know the details I also wanted to keep him talking, hoping to get him to acknowledge and perhaps let go some of the negative feelings he had been harboring for so long. Carlisle seemed to note my reluctance for he looked me right in the eyes with an assessing look. I stared straight back, ridding myself of all fear and uncertainty. Carlisle needed someone to talk to, and _I _was that only someone, but if he felt I could not handle what he had to say then he would clamp shut and nothing I could say would change his mind.

"Tell me," I demanded in a gentle yet firm tone and after several tense moments he gave a reluctant nod. Relieved, I slowly made my way over towards him before deciding to lean against the windowsill so that when he tried to stare outside he would be staring at me instead.

"Did you ever wonder how I learned to be a father?" he asked casually, and I responded with a curious nod. Yes, after I had learned about his upbringing I had wondered, but never enough to actually ask. "You're a natural," I told him lovingly, and he gave a snort before gracing me with a small smile.

"I learned how to be a father by doing the exact opposite of what Samuel did to me. If it ever seemed like I would be acting as he had then I would not do it," he explained. "Although experience has proved a better teacher, it is still a method I fall back on from time to time." I nodded my head in understanding, still of the feeling that Carlisle was a natural when it came to fatherhood. He may have used his own father as a guideline for what not to do, but that alone would not have given him the tools of understanding, patience, compassion or love. That alone would not have garnered the love, respect and devotion each of our children felt towards him.

"Father was vile, cruel, deceitful, and selfish," Carlisle informed me. "He constantly put me down. Rarely did I do or say the right thing in his eyes. Constantly I was reminded of what a disappointment, what a failure, and what a disgrace I was to him. I was a wicked, sinful boy who he had been burdened with. I was the reason his wife, my mother was dead, and he made sure I knew that I would never be forgiven for that, not in his eyes and not in God's eyes," he recounted, his face and voice turning more bitter with every passing word. "He told me that only by being an obedient son and pious follower of God would I begin to attain some measure of forgiveness; but, as I already mentioned I was a constant failure to him so forgiveness was never and would never be received."

I placed my hand over my heart as I focused on my steady breathing to keep from crying. It was not me who suffered so I had no right to be crying. As I had already told myself several times these past few days, I had to be the strong one. I had to be Carlisle's rock, so I was not allowed to break down.

"When I was a boy I truly believed every word Father spoke. I truly believed that I was a bad person, that I had murdered my own mother, and that I _deserved_ whatever he did to me," he nearly spat out, visible tears in his eyes. I noticed the hurt look in his face as he then said, "Nothing I did Esme was ever good enough, _nothing_. I tried so hard to be the son he wanted, but I never measured up. I was too weak, too dumb, too disrespectful, too disobedient, or too defiant, and I rarely meant to be, at least in my younger years."

He stared resolutely at the floor as he spoke, his tensed muscles revealing how uncomfortable he was.

"Every time he felt I misbehaved he would punish me swiftly and harshly, the intensity increasing the older I got. He started with his only his hand at first, but quickly began to use whatever was near, and that was usually a leather strap he had taken to carrying around with him." Carlisle closed his eyes briefly, and then in a quiet voice admitted, "He hurt me terribly Esme. There were many times where I was in too much pain to even move. He would beat me until I bled, and rarely tended to my wounds. However, while this physical pain was immense, the emotional pain was even worse. I could not understand why I was such a horrid person in his eyes. I could not understand why I could never seem to please him. When he punished me I would cry and beg for his mercy and forgiveness, but I only succeeded in infuriating him more. He would scold me for acting like a weak, little girl, and always tell me that a man took his punishment in silence; so the older I got the better I was able to hold in my pain and tears."

I digested his words, somehow feeling sick to my stomach with horror at what Carlisle had suffered. No wonder he always held in his pain. No wonder he felt he always had to be strong.

"It was once I reached my teenage years that I began to question everything. I questioned my father's work, his opinions of me, and his treatment of me. When I was 14 I learned that my father killed innocent people, and that he was raising me to be just like him. I confronted him about the innocence of a victim, a girl named Ariana," he explained brokenly, "but he refused to listen. He just whipped me mercilessly for having allowed myself to be hoodwinked, and he then forced me to watch her burn alive. I can still hear her screams," he whispered, finally looking up at me with haunted eyes. "I can still hear her screaming my name, begging me to help her, and I could do nothing more than stand there and watch."

I could not help the few tears that trailed down my face as I covered my mouth. I wanted to say something comforting, but I had no idea what to say. What could I say that would change what had happened? What could I say that would not sound like fake platitudes or meaningless words?"

"I tried _so hard_ to save her Esme," he insisted, giving me a look that just begged me to believe him. "After my whipping I again tried to appeal to Father during Ariana's trial, hoping that the townspeople would listen and support me, but it didn't work. My father, enraged announced to the crowd that I had been bewitched by Ariana and that my ramblings were to be ignored. Despite his words I continued to plead, knowing full well that there would be hell to pay once we were alone; but at that moment I no longer cared. I wanted to save that innocent girl at all costs. I failed though, Father's words turning the townspeople against me. I was dragged out of the courtroom and watched closely until Father came for me." Carlisle's breaths were coming quicker, his face distressed as he recalled this traumatic event.

"Upon reaching me Father promised that after the execution I would receive a thrashing I'd not soon forget for having embarrassed and disrespected him so terribly. I will admit that I was afraid, terrified even, but my sense of injustice outweighed the fear. I attempted to escape from him, intent on helping Ariana escape, but I was caught before I could get my foot out the door of the house we were staying in."

I sucked in a quick breath, fearing for young Carlisle. I could only imagine what Samuel had done to him. He was abusive when Carlisle did nothing wrong, so I could only imagine how hard he came down on his son when he defied him so openly and continuously.

Carlisle stared into my eyes, his expression desolate as he finished his dark tale. "He gagged and tied me to his bed until it came time for Ariana's execution, at which time he had to literally drag me to where it would occur. She was so terrified," he recalled distressfully. "She called out to the crowd, begging for mercy, and when she caught sight of me she actually looked relieved." Carlisle fell silent for a moment, eyes closed, actually trembling a little.

"She looked at me, called my name out as though I were her salvation; but when I did nothing she looked absolutely crushed," my husband said, his voice hoarse from sheer emotion. "She began to cry and beg me to help her, but I could do nothing. I tried to escape my father's grasp, but he held me tightly, and when I once more tried to appeal to the crowd, he tied his handkerchief around my mouth to silence me. After that, I was forced to watch Ariana burn. I wanted to look away, and I wanted to close my eyes but I forced myself to look her in the eyes, hoping that I was able to somehow help her in her last moments. I wanted her to know she was not alone." Carlisle stopped speaking at this moment, his breaths ragged as he attempted to keep himself under control. He slowly sank down to the ground, giving nothing more than a grunt as his sore backside touched the floor. He made no noise after that, just pulled his knees to his chest, wrapped his arms around them and buried his head in his arms.

It tore me apart to see my love so broken and down. I made my way to him and sat down right beside him so that we were touching. I said nothing though, just allowing him to bring himself back under control on his own. I could feel his body tremble every now and then as though he were shivering from cold. He had stopped breathing and his fists remained clenched while his muscles remained tensed for several moments. I knew he was feeling a little better when he eventually unclenched his fists and lifted his head.

"You did everything you could," I finally spoke, and he shook his head negatively as he responded, "I should never have told Father. I should have known better and just saved Ariana while I still had a chance."

"You didn't know better," I countered. "He was your father and you thought he would listen to you. It wasn't your fault that he ignored your words, and it wasn't your fault the townspeople did not believe you. Ariana's death _was not your fault_," I declared firmly, making sure he looked me full in the face. "It was a tragedy, and you were extremely brave to have attempted to save her so many times, especially knowing that you were only worsening your punishment."

Carlisle shuddered slightly, and I had no doubt he was remembering the punishment.

"Many of my remaining scars come from that punishment alone," he informed me, and I grasped one of his hands in mine, giving it a comforting squeeze. He squeezed back, giving me a small, brief appreciative smile.

"How did you feel about Samuel after this event?" I decided to press, and his expression immediately darkened.

"That was the day when I truly began to hate my father. That was the day where I told myself that I no longer cared if Samuel ever loved me or not. I did not want his love if it meant I would be like him, a cold blooded killer," he declared, his voice louder and stronger.

"How did I feel?" he asked out loud. "I felt betrayed and lied to. I felt as though the ground had been ripped out right from under me. He was my father Esme, and despite how hard he had been on me I still felt that he loved me. Perhaps deep down, but he was my _father_! I certainly loved him. I certainly admired and respected him, and I strived to be the man he wanted me to be, no matter how difficult that was."

Carlisle's hand squeezed mine tightly while his other hand gripped his hair. He was working himself up once more, so I just rubbed soothing circles on the hand I held before placing a light kiss on it. It seemed to help somewhat for he loosened his hold and took in a deep breath.

"Up until then I had truly thought that there was something wrong with me because I was incapable of doing anything right in Father's eyes. I had never been comfortable with the work he did. In fact, I absolutely hated it," he admitted, glancing over at me with wide eyes.

"Do you know how old I was the first time I watched someone die?" he questioned, and I reluctantly shook my head no. I was quite positive I did not want to know the answer.

"Seven," he answered hollowly. "I was seven years old, and it was the old woman who used to care for me. The woman who taught me that lullaby," he explained, and my own eyes widened at both his age and the person he had to witness dying.

"You were so young," I could not help but gasp out, and he just nodded his head before speaking once more.

"Despite Father's claims I never believed she had done anything wrong. I had tried to convince myself otherwise, but deep down I knew the truth. I just refused to acknowledge it." He paused for a moment to college his thoughts before continuing. "Her death was so hard to watch, and I never forgot it. I never forgot her kindness and love. I never forgot her screams of agony."

I myself shuddered at this point, easily able to imagine what those screams sounded like. Carlisle gave my hand a squeeze, and I could not help but smile at the fact that _he_ was offering _me_ comfort.

"I only saw a few more executions after that until I was twelve and began accompanying Father on his trips. Things became so much harder for me at that point as I now became an active part in his work. I was constantly by his side as he met his victims, interrogated, sentenced, and killed them. I always hoped it would get easier, but it never did, and I hated myself for it," he recounted with a bitter laugh. "I thought myself weak just as Father always said, and I cursed myself for it. I told myself constantly that I had to man up. These people were monsters and Father was following the will of God. He was purging the world of evil. He was doing good work, and he wanted me to follow in his footsteps. By doing what he told me to I would be able to obtain God's forgiveness for having killed my own mother and perhaps even gain my father's affections."

My stomach twisted at his words. How sick was Samuel to have accused his own son of his mother's death. How sick was Samuel that he constantly held this over an innocent child's head.

Carlisle gave another humorless laugh before shaking his head in self-disgust. "I was so pathetic," he muttered self-deprecatingly, and I immediately shook my head before reaching out and turning his head towards mine.

"You were no such thing Carlisle," I asserted in a tone that left no more for disagreement. "You had no reason to think or feel any differently. He was your father, you thought he loved you, and you definitely loved him. You wanted to make him proud as any child would. He was all you had."

Carlisle gazed at me with his sorrowful eyes before gracing me with a slow nod to show his acceptance of my words.

"Yes," he agreed. "He was all I had, and I longed for his love, approval, and affections. I longed for it so much that I almost allowed myself to become what he wanted me to. However, after the incident with Ariana I had my eyes opened." He released my hand at this point, both his hands rubbing furiously at his eyes before clenching into tight fists. His expression was one of betrayal, hurt, and fury.

"I _hated_ my father and I hated myself for having ever fallen under his spell. Knowing the truth now, I tried to figure out what I was going to do. I did not want to become like him, but I did not want to openly defy him again. He terrified me Esme," he confessed, shamefaced. "I was afraid of his punishments, and so I kept quiet, biding my time until I figured out what to do. When I was 16 I decided that running away was the only option for me. My plan was not well thought out though, and I ended up being caught a few miles outside of London by a close friend of my father. He dragged me home, and when Father got a hold of me I was soundly beaten before being locked inside my bedroom for the next several weeks. He treated me like a prisoner, only feeding me once a day before leaving me to my solitude. It was a horrible experience, especially since my bedroom did not have a window. My room had also been stripped bare, and I was left with nothing more than a bible, a thin blanket, and a bucket for waste."

I jerked slightly at that detail, completely appalled at what Carlisle had been forced to endure at the hands of his own father. Just when I thought Samuel could get no more depraved, he continued to astound me.

"I had a lot of time to think and eventually I came to the conclusion that I could not outright challenge my father because I would lose. I had to be smarter than him, so I decided to become the perfect son. I would become exactly what he wanted me to be while in truth I would secretly work against him," he told me, a slight smirk forming on his lips as a defiant fire lit in his eyes.

"What did you do?" I pressed, a part of me happy that he did not take things lying down, while another part of me felt deeply concerned over what he may have done; or more precisely, the consequences he suffered for having defied the pastor.

"I helped victims escape," he answered proudly. "Not all of them, of course," he added, his tone a bit more subdued, "but I saved as many as I could. Most often I saved them by helping them escape from wherever they were held, but sometimes I even resorted to threatening the accuser or accusers into silence." I stared at Carlisle in surprise, unable to imagine him threatening anyone, especially as a young man. Carlisle noted my look and a smirk once more appeared on his handsome face.

"The better a son I became the more trust Father placed in me, and many times he would have me alone interview the witnesses. I have always been quite adept at being able to tell when someone is lying, so I was able to quickly figure out who was lying, and who truly felt they had been victims. Sometimes when I met with a liar, and if there weren't very many of them I would threaten to damn their souls to hell for all eternity for lying before God. If that was not enough I would then threaten to tell my father of their lies, which would end with them being executed rather than the person or people they were to testify against." Carlisle let out a short laugh when he caught my bewildered expression.

"Different times, my love," he explained. "These people I threatened were always uneducated, and had no idea that I was lying to them. I was and still am a very accomplished liar," he stated, his tone turning bitter once more.

"Were you ever caught?" I found myself asking, unable to believe he kept the ruse running from the time he was 16 until his transformation at 23. My beliefs it seemed were correct because a look of immense pain and anger flashed over my husband's face before he replaced it with a blank mask. Hmm, and here I had thought he was done hiding.

**Emmett's POV:**

I was standing outside just staring up at the lightening sky, enjoying the feel of the light drizzle of rain on my skin. I dimly wondered if this cool rain would be able to help soothe the raging inferno on my backside before quickly dismissing the idea. Maybe a bag of ice, I mused as I resisted the urge to rub. Rosalie was still by my side (well, technically she was a few feet behind me standing on the dry porch, but you get my point) and I didn't want to worry her anymore than she already was. I mean, there was no denying to her that I was in pain, but that didn't mean I had to show her.

My siblings and I had finally dispersed from the living room after Alice had told us Mom was gonna be calling in a few hours. Jasper and Alice had escaped to their bedroom while Edward was playing away on his girlfriend, the piano, AKA Sheila. Did I name her? Of course I did. Did you really think Eddie boy would name his piano? Well, maybe he had, but he definitely wouldn't have named it Sheila. I just loved to rile that boy up and he hated it when I referred to his piano as his girlfriend Sheila. Haha, that guy so needed to find himself a woman and get laid, then maybe he wouldn't be such a prude.

"I can hear you Emmett, so do me a favor and _shut up_!" Edward hissed irritably, and I chuckled softly before sending a somewhat sincere mental apology.

My mind was just beginning to drift towards my parents when I heard Alice yell out, "Damn it Mom!" I exchanged a startled look with Rosalie before she and I rushed up to her room, Edward already present.

"What is it Alice?" Rosalie demanded, quickly noting both Alice and Edward's disappointed expressions.

"Mom won't be calling anymore. Something must have changed, and now I have no idea when we'll hear from her," she informed us, frustration and worry etched in her every feature.

"Hey now," Jazzy spoke reassuringly as he placed a hand on her shoulder, "I'm sure she and Dad are just fine. Mom probably planned on callin' us but then got distracted by Dad. Y'all know how those two can get."

I relaxed somewhat, noting the truth of his words. Yeah, for such prim and proper old folks, Mom and Pops could sure put Rose and I to shame at times. Thank God we always had Alice, Edward, and Jasper to warn us of these moments or we'd have a house full of mentally scarred teenage vamps. I mean, I'm glad the parents loved each other so much, but there were just some things a boy did not wanna see his mama and papa doing, if you catch my drift. It's just plain gross.

"But what if you're wrong?" Alice questioned anxiously, obviously not as easily placated as me. "What if they're in trouble? What if they need us and are unable to get to a phone? What if Dad is being stubborn and Mom is too afraid to leave his side, so she can't call us for help?"

Rose and my siblings and I exchanged concerned looks at her list of questions, discontent spreading through the room. I really wished Mom hadn't banned Alice from looking into the future as this would sure make things easier on us. The least she could do is call us, I thought in disgruntlement. Here we are worrying our butts off and they could be having a good 'ol time for all we knew.

"You guys, what if I look?" Alice suddenly voiced, and our attention was immediately focused on her. "I know Mom said not to, but I'm dead serious: what if something is wrong? What if they need us? What if they need us and they don't realize it?"

"I say look," Edward stated with a determined look. "I'm tired of sitting in the dark here. I want to know what's going on, and if Dad is coming home or not." I saw the fear in his eyes, and hoped to God that Pops would come home.

"I agree," I asserted, turning my gaze to Jasper who nodded his head and then towards Rose who also nodded her head.

Alice let out a breath of relief.

"We got your back Alice, and if Mom gets upset over this we'll take the heat with you. Besides, we're a family and we should deal with what happened as a family. Mom shouldn't be the only one to have to deal with Pops. Besides, we'd probably be a big help in convincing the old guy to come home if he's really afraid that he'll hurt one of us again," I remarked confidently.

Nods were given all around the room before all eyes were once more focused on the pixie. She closed her eyes for several moments before she gave a small gasp. I tensed, preparing myself for whatever she might say; and I'm pretty sure judging by her and Eddie's upset looks that it wasn't good news.

"What did you see?" Rose demanded in concern when Alice had remained silent for too long. She exchanged a look with Edward before he sighed and answered in her stead.

"She saw Dad crying," he told us in a clearly stunned tone, "and Mom unable to get through to him."

I felt the surprise kick up in the room, no doubt Jasper unable to control his own surprise at the fact that Pops, our tough old Pops was crying. I couldn't believe it. I mean, I'd never seen the guy cry in all the years that I'd know him. I had always seen my Pops as strong, tough, and resilient, but Alice said she'd seen him crying. What could have happened to have caused that? And why the hell wasn't Mom able to help him?

The room was silent for several moments as each person digested what was said before I declared, "We have to go to him." Four pairs of eyes turned towards me as I continued. "If Mom isn't able to help Pops, then maybe we can. I'm tired of sitting here and doing nothing. I helped cause this mess and now I'm going to do my damndest to fix it. You're welcome to join me or not."

"I'm going," Edward piped up, Alice nodding in agreement as Jasper stated, "I'm in". I expected I was going to have to convince my Rose, so I was surprised when she stated at the same time as Jasper that she too was coming along. I graced her with a loving smile before giving appreciative looks to my siblings.

"No need ta thank us Emmett," Jasper drawled with a smile. "It's like you said, we're family and we gotta look out for one another. Moms had her chance and now it's ours, so Alice baby, why don't ya see if you can figure out where they are."

"They're in a house I've never seen before," she told us, her eyes closed as she looked for more details. "I can't see where exactly," she sighed in frustration. Opening her eyes she looked at us and said, "All I know is that they are in Canada somewhere near Lake Winnipeg. I suggest we just canvas the area and hope to catch their scent."

"Not the best plan I've ever heard," I said with a grin, "but it'll do."

"Yeah, and you'd know all about good plans, wouldn't you Em?" Rosalie teased, my siblings emitting soft chuckles as I huffed.

"Course I do," I responded.

"I'm sorry, but how many of your plans have ever actually worked?" Edward asked, causing more laughs to erupt and I just rolled my eyes. They're jealous, I told myself, all the while ignoring their snickers as we quickly headed out on our rescue mission.

**A/N: **Carlisle is FINALLY opening up and the kids are coming to the rescue! Hurray! NOW PLEASE REVIEW! ;p


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Twilight.

**Warning:** This story contains _**disciplinary spanking**_ so if you don't like/approve of this, then _**don't**_** bother reading or flaming**!

**A/N:**

Okay, so Eleazar will be brought up in this chapter. His age at transformation is never mentioned, so I'm choosing to make him 31 as I want him older than Carlisle. Also, like Cumor I am making it that Eleazar was with the Volturi at the same time as Carlisle.

**Chapter 13: Past 2**

**Carlisle's POV:**

"Were you ever caught?" Esme asked, and I resisted the urge to grimace as Sarah's face flashed before my eyes. I will admit that talking about my past had proved to be somewhat cathartic, but we had reached the point I really did not want to delve into. I did not want to discuss Sarah or my father anymore. I did not want her to know, so I remained silent foolishly hoping she would take this as a sign and let the subject drop. She would have in the past; however, my luck had been pretty nonexistent as of late, so I was unsurprised when she nudged my knee with hers before giving me a pointed look.

"You were, weren't you," she stated more than asked, and I reluctantly nodded my head. A look of deep concern colored her expression, and I felt guilty. Had I not caused you enough worry already, my love? Had I not caused you enough heartache?

"What is going on in that thick head of yours Carlisle?" Esme pressed, and I flicked my eyes to note her expression was now one of exasperation as if she already knew what I was thinking. I shifted, holding in a groan as I further irritated my throbbing backside. Sitting on the ground like this was murder, but I found that somehow the pain helped keep me focused in the present. It kept me from getting too involved in my memories.

Deciding that I might as well answer my wife, I told her what I thought. "Esme, do you really want to continue this discussion? I have noted how upset you've become, and I do not want to add to your heartache. I have already hurt you enough for a lifetime, so please do not ask me to add to it. My heart could not bear it."

"Oh darling," Esme sighed, loving exasperation coming off of her in waves, "you are not hurting me. I want to know about your past so that I can help you as you helped me."

I frowned at her words, and she rolled her eyes before then saying, "You helped me overcome the trauma I had faced at the hands of Charles, and you did it by getting me to talk about my experiences and what I felt. You then helped me realize how wrong I was to think that any of it was my fault, or that there had been something wrong with me. Without you I would still be that hurt, broken woman who threw herself off a cliff. Carlisle, you saw that I was hurting and you refused to let me wallow in my own despair; and now I am here to return the favor. It is my turn to be strong for you. It is my turn to help you overcome your trauma and to disprove all those ridiculous notions you have of being a failure or a disappointment to me or anyone else," she stated in a gentle, loving tone.

I swallowed, a lump forming in my throat as I fought back tears. I was immensely touched by her words, grateful that I had been able to help her, and grateful that she was my mate. She was truly my heart and soul and I thanked every day God for gifting me with her.

"I am flattered by your gratitude," I was eventually able to say, "but it was really you who helped yourself, not I."

She responded by just rolling her eyes to the heavens before shaking her head. "Stubborn old mule," she muttered, and I gave her an offended look. She laughed lightly before sobering and saying, "It was you Carlisle. You were the one that helped me, and believe me when I say that I could not have done it without you. I am the woman I am today because of you, so just accept it."

My heart warmed at the sheer honest sincerity I heard in her voice, and I wrapped an arm around her as I brought her in for a sweet kiss. Breaking apart, I then softly nuzzled my face against hers as I said with as much appreciation as I could, "Thank you Esme."

She responded with a light kiss on my nose and a beautiful smile, which would have set my heart racing if it still beat.

"I am sorry I am being so difficult," I apologized. "I-I am just so used to keeping things bottled up that I don't know how to let go. I feel as if I should always be the strong one, and that I should always be in control and dependent on no one. I can now see that these feelings are a result of my childhood. Samuel drilled it into my head from a young age that I needed to always be independent, strong, tough, and self-sufficient. I realize that I do not hold our sons to these standards and that is because I have recognized that there is more to being a man than these traits. However, I have been unable to shake these expectations from myself," he spoke with frustration.

"Why do you think that is?" my wife asked calmly, and I inhaled a breath before responding.

"Because I am in charge," I answered simply, throwing her a semi-anxious look. "In both our family and coven I am the leader, and while I share that responsibility with you as a parent, I and I alone am coven leader. I am responsible for every single member of this family. I am responsible for everyone's safety, happiness, and any trouble a member finds themselves in. Because of the responsibility I feel I have to always be strong. It's alright for you or any of the children to ask for help or seek comfort, but I don't feel I am allowed such a luxury for if I appear weak then you will cease to trust in me. If I ever appear unsure or vulnerable then you will not respect me as a husband, father, leader, or even as a man."

I looked down at my knees, my hands fidgeting nervously before I once more began to speak. "I know it's ridiculous," I remarked. "I know I shouldn't feel this way, but I can't help it. I tell myself that you would never think any less of me for crying or asking for help, but I am unable to rid myself of the fear. My father's words are so ingrained in me that I cannot shake them."

There were several moments of silence, where I desperately wondered what Esme could be thinking. Finally after what felt like hours, but was probably only a minute, Esme spoke.

"Carlisle, my love," she called kindly, causing me to look her way. "Look me in the eyes," she demanded, "and tell me what you see." I furrowed my brow in confusion before I stared into her beautiful amber eyes as she then stated, "In the past day you have been more open and honest with me than you have in our entire marriage. I am not saying that you have ever lied to me, but I had always noted how closed off you would become when upset. Today on the other hand you have opened yourself up to me completely and asked for my help. I have seen you lose your temper, look lost, look desperate, and I have even seen you cry. To top it all off you have also finally admitted the depths of the emotional scars Samuel left on you, and have been courageous enough to trust me with your memories and feelings." She paused a moment to make sure I was with her.

"During any of that time, have you ever gotten the feeling that I have looked down on you? Have I told you at any point that I am disgusted or ashamed of you? Look me in the eyes," she ordered, "and tell me what you see."

I gazed deeply in her eyes and searched for any hint of what I feared. Did she look disgusted? Did she look angry? Did she look afraid? No, no she didn't, I realized. I didn't see any of that in her eyes. What I saw instead was what I always saw when looking into my wife's eyes. I saw love, all consuming tremendous love for me.

My throat immediately tightened with emotion, relief flooding through me. I felt like crying or shouting in joy. I did neither though. Instead I just leaned into her, her arms automatically wrapping around me as I rested my head on her chest.

"From your reaction," she murmured kindly, "I take it you did not find what you so feared?"

I smiled softly before pulling away. Looking into her eyes once more I placed my hand on her cheek as I said, "I love you too." And with that I brought her in for a passionate kiss, one that she returned with just as much eagerness as I. Through this kiss I felt her need for me just as easily as she felt my need for her. Without breaking apart I maneuvered us so that she was lying on the ground with me on top of her. She gripped the back of my hair pulling me closer as I ripped off her blouse.

Esme gasped, breaking apart from the kiss long enough to scold me. "I really liked that blouse," she complained, and I just gave her an, 'are you serious' look before responding, "I'll buy you another one."

I didn't give her another chance to speak as I once more captured her mouth with mine. I loved the feel of her hands as they gripped at my hair and back, and I loved the little gasps she gave as I lightly nibbled on her ear. Our movements became more frenzied and needier then as we quickly rid ourselves of what little clothing we had. We ended up breaking a few more pieces of furniture, a chair, dresser, and a lamp, but we didn't care. All we cared about was the person in our arms and showing that person how much we loved them…

…It was a few hours later when we both found ourselves in clothes once more, lying in bed staring into each other's faces.

"I love you so much," I whispered emotionally, and she smiled as she nodded her head.

"I know," she responded, "and I love you."

My heart soared at her simple words. How had I gotten so lucky? I would never be able to thank God enough for bringing this woman into my life. She was my angel and my salvation. She was my rock and the person who kept me going. I loved her more than words could express and I did the best I could to convey that with every look, touch, and word I spoke.

"What are you thinking?" Esme asked as she absentmindedly brushed a strand of hair from my face.

"I am wondering how I got so lucky as to have you in my life," I mentioned, pulling my wife closer towards me. "As a human I never allowed myself the chance of believing that I would ever get married or have a family. I did not want to subject an innocent woman or child to my father's cruelty. I knew even then that no matter what I did, Samuel would always interfere in my life and I could not stand the thought of him hurting my wife or child." Esme lightly caressed the back of my head, her eyes turning sad and pained at my words. She was a good listener though and said nothing, knowing that I had more to say.

"When I transformed all possibilities of a wife or children completely vanished," I continued, pausing as I tried to formulate my thoughts and memories into words. "Once I came to terms with what I had become I set out in search of meeting others of my kind. I was lonely and I yearned for friendship. I never quite found what I was looking for though. Most vampires I met were disgusted or put off by my strange diet, violent, and/or uncivilized. There were a few who I found I could get along with, but due to their diets and lifestyle I never stayed with these few acquaintances for long." My mind traveled to the past, the familiar ache of loneliness and rejection piercing my heart.

"Even amongst vampires I belonged nowhere," I continued morosely, rubbing at the hollowness I felt in my chest. I stopped when Esme placed her soft hand on mine, giving me a concerned look. I attempted a brief smile before speaking again. "I was so lonely," I admitted to her. "You cannot imagine how much I longed for companionship, someone to talk to and who would share the same feeding style as me. I wanted someone to accept me, someone to know the real me." I leaned towards my wife so that our foreheads were touching.

"My decision to turn Edward was one of the hardest I have ever made," I informed her. "I was so desperate though, and when his human mother requested that I do everything in my power to save her son I made a spur of the moment decision. He was dying, I knew that, and when I looked at his face I found myself thinking that if I had a son I would want him to be like Edward." I smiled slightly, an old memory flashing in my mind. "I had met Edward before you see," I explained, smile widening at the obvious curiosity in Esme's eyes. "It was at a party and I happened upon him quite by accident. I was attempting to escape from a group of rabid woman," I recounted with humor, Esme rolling her eyes, "and I ended up hiding in a library. Edward was there casually lying on one of the couches playing with a baseball. He had been tossing it high into the air, and apparently I startled him so badly by my abrupt entrance that he forgot to catch the ball and it landed on his face. I helped him out, thankful that he ended up with nothing more than a small bump on his forehead before apologizing profusely for having startled him. He was upset at first but after I explained what I was doing he forgave me instantly, his amusement at my situation far outweighing any previous irritation." My grin widened further as the memory became clearer.

"What happened next?" Esme pressed, clearly enraptured by my tale.

"Nothing much," I answered with a light shrug. "We just talked. He explained how he had come to the library out of sheer boredom. He was not a fan of fancy parties like this, and I told him I wasn't either. He then told me a little about himself, and I found myself somehow drawn to him. I could not understand why I was so intrigued by him, but all I knew was that I enjoyed spending time with him and I ended up being more truthful with him than I had been with anyone in a _very_ long time. My life had been one big lie after another for so long that I relished in the feeling of being myself with someone. I felt connected to Edward and from out of nowhere I remember having the sudden thought that I wanted to turn this young man."

I bit my lip, frowning as I then said, "The connection, the reaction I had towards him frightened me so much that I made sure to never make contact with Edward again, at least not until he and his father ended up in my hospital." I paused at this time, remembering the pained reaction I had at seeing Edward in the hospital. I remembered the draw growing stronger and every fiber of my being begging me to not let him die. I did not understand my feelings at all and they scared me, but I could not help but agree with them. I had not wanted Edward to die so when Elizabeth had made the request my decision became cemented.

"So you turned Edward," Esme spoke, "and you were no longer alone."

"I was no longer alone," I agreed, giving my wife a smile as I kissed her lightly on the lips. "It was a rocky start for the two of us, but eventually Edward became the son I never thought I would have. He made me feel alive again, and he made me happier than I had ever been before. For the first time in my life I felt loved and needed, and it terrified me. I was so afraid that I would fail Edward in some way and that he would eventually hate me; but that never happened. Our relationship continued to grow stronger with each passing day, my feelings of loneliness a thing of the past. Things only got better when I found you. In Edward I had found a son, but in you I had found a wife, my soul mate. In you I had found my other half. I finally felt whole." I smiled widely at Esme, who stared at me with adoring eyes before leaning into my chest.

"Over the years our family has grown, and I feel so blessed. However, I still harbor that old terror that I will mess up and lose you all. I don't know what I would do if that were to ever happen. I could never stand to be alone again, _never_. After what happened with Emmett I thought for sure you would hate me and not want me near the children. I thought I had lost you all, and I wanted to die. The pain I felt was unbearable. I felt empty and I just"—

"Shhhhh," Esme shushed quietly as she placed a single finger on my lips. "You have not lost us, Carlisle. You have not lost me and you have not lost the children. You are not alone and you _will never_ _be alone again_. You are stuck with us."

"What if I screw up again?" I could not help but ask. "What if I fail you or them? I am not as perfect or infallible as you all believe me to be."

Esme just shook her head before stating, "You have failed no one. You made a mistake, yet you have learned from it and I know it will never happen again. You have already taken several steps to insure it doesn't, first by accepting punishment and second by opening up to me. By agreeing to remain open and honest with me we can work together to make sure what happened with Emmett never happens again."

"But what if"—I began to say but Esme once more cut me off.

"It won't," she asserted strongly and confidently. "I trust you Carlisle, so trust yourself. You are a good man, so have some faith."

I nodded my head, although I still did not feel quite reassured. Esme obviously caught my expression for her face hardened as she pursed her lips. Staring me straight in the eyes she said, "Apparently my trust in you is not enough so I will attempt another method. If you _ever_ treat any of the children in an abusive manner, whether it be physical or emotional I will not only whip the very hide off of you but I will make sure the children are present when it happens."

I stared at her with wide eyes, unable to bear the thought of such a thing happening. Was she serious though?

"Would you really do that to me?" I couldn't help but ask since I didn't quite believe her. Esme would never be able to stomach such a punishment. She would not be able to bear subjecting me to such humiliation.

"I most certainly would," she responded with a serious nod, attempting to convey conviction. Staring at her more closely though her eyes told a different story, and I smiled slightly at what I saw.

"You're bluffing," I told her matter of factly. "You would never be able to go through with such a threat."

"I would too," she countered hotly, but my smile just widened as I shook my head at her.

"No you wouldn't, love. You are much too soft hearted to do such a thing," I declared with a light laugh. This was a mistake on my part though for she clearly did not appreciate my humor or apparent doubt in her abilities.

"Too soft?!" she hissed out, landing two very sharp swats on my backside, which caused me to let out a loud gasp of pain.

"Esme," I whined as I rubbed my seriously abused posterior. I knew I must have sounded and looked very much like a little boy, but at the moment my dignity was gone. That bloody hurt!

"What do you mean by too soft? Because I can certainly add more if you feel I was _too_ _soft _with you, Carlisle Cullen!" she told me sternly, hand raised in the air as though ready to land a few more on me. I quickly tried to grab a hold her hand but that was another mistake as she landed two more swats, harder than the previous two.

"Ow! Ouch Esme!" I yelped, giving my wife a pitiful expression when she just smirked at me.

"You haven't answered my question, darling," she remarked casually, that deadly hand still posed and ready to land another assault. I absentmindedly tried to rub the sting out of my poor backside as I told her, "I never meant to say that you had been too soft with me or that you couldn't deliver an effective punishment. I only meant that I didn't believe you had the heart to give me a harsher one, especially in front of the kids as you know how humiliating that would be with me. And I'm sorry for laughing,

Esme seemed to consider my words before she nodded, giving a small sigh as she lowered her hand. "You're right, I wouldn't be able to do that to you. However, _this_ isn't an idle threat so listen closely. You repeat this same mistake again and I will call in Eleazar and have _him_ deal with you."

I reeled back, a good bit horrified. "Eleazar?! What-why-No, absolutely not!" Nuh uh, no way, no way, no way! Damn it, I am such an idiot! Why did I push Esme? I should have just nodded my head like a good boy and accepted her previous threat with good grace.

"The decision would not be up to you," my wife responded quite frostily, and I rapidly backpedaled, keeping a close eye on her left hand as I made my tone much less argumentative and assertive.

"What I meant to say was that he would never agree to discipline me, and it wouldn't be right to involve him, and-and it just...," I trailed off, not liking the expression on Esme's face at all. I'd seen her give the children that look on more than one occasion, and it basically said, 'you should just stop speaking because you are only making a fool of yourself'.

Esme lightly ran her hand up on and down my hip, causing me to tense as I somehow knew this gesture was meant as more of a warning to watch my words than to provide comfort.

"I am certain Eleazar would agree," she stated calmly, a small, knowing smile on her face. "He is one of your closest and oldest friends. He is family, and he has told me before that he considers you to be his younger brother. He cares for you a great deal."

I raised my eyebrows, not knowing he thought of me like that. I was very touched because I cared for him as a brother as well, but..."Younger brother?" I asked. "Does he not recall that I was born before him?"

Esme gave a beautiful laugh as she shook her head at me in exasperation. "He is physically older than you by eight years though, which would make him older than you."

I saw the truth in her words, the example of Jasper and Esme coming into my mind. Although Jasper was born before Esme was, Esme's physical age made her older than Jasper. Seeing the truth though didn't mean I wouldn't fight it, of course. Eleazar and I would be having a chat the next time we saw each other.

"I am not sure I would like the idea of Eleazar disciplining me," I then stated, making sure to not sound antagonistic, for that blasted hand was still lying very near my tender backside. I was still doubtful the man would ever agree, but Esme seemed so sure, which left me wondering what sorts of conversations those two had.

"I hate to sound uncaring Carlisle, but what you want does not really matter in this situation. If you were to ever behave as you had again I do not feel I could deliver a harsher punishment than I did today. Eleazar would, I know it," she stated with the utmost certainty.

I felt bewildered at her certainty. "How can you be so certain? Have you discussed this with him?" I questioned, feeling quite embarrassed. Eleazar's opinion meant a great deal to me and I could not stand the thought of him looking down on me. I could not imagine a situation where this topic would have arisen though. I mean, Eleazar knew that I spanked the children, but when would disciplining _me_ have come out? Unless...unless this is not the first time such a thought has crossed Esme's mind.

"Darling," my wife spoke comfortingly, "calm yourself, you are working yourself up over nothing. It is not what you are thinking. It was several years ago, and Eleazar and I were discussing why you and I spanked the children and I jokingly told him that there were times I felt you could use a bit of discipline." I frowned and she placed her hand on my face, smoothing out the frown.

"Eleazar laughed, saying he was not surprised. While he was mostly teasing, I could also tell he was partly serious so I pressed him," Esme continued in the same comforting voice. "He told me of how stubborn and reckless you could be, and of what a temper you had. Truthfully, I had thought at the time he was greatly exaggerating. I had noticed you could be a bit stubborn, but I had never noticed any recklessness or even a hint of a temper," she remarked, lovingly brushing a few strands of hair out of my face. I couldn't help but feel embarrassed.

"I told Eleazar my thoughts and he just smiled, saying you had grown up a lot since creating your family, and that he was very proud of the man you had become," I smiled slightly at her words, once more being touched by the thoughts of my old friend, my brother. He noticed much more than I had ever thought.

"The topic changed after that and we chatted about many other things," Esme said, "But before we parted ways, Eleazar told me that while he knew it'd probably never happen, that if I ever needed him to help straighten you out," she told me with a smile, "that he would be here in a heartbeat."

My mouth actually fell open at her words, and I was very happy I could no longer blush because I was certain my face would have been bright red. I was surprised, but at the same time not so surprised The man had known me since our days with the Volturi. He had befriended me at one of my lowest points when I had begun to feel there was no hope of me ever finding happiness or purpose in this life; and as such, he had seen Samuel Cullen's rebellious son at his best.

I now had no doubt that Eleazar meant what he told Esme. I did have a memory of him during our time with the Volturi, threatening me with a serious thrashing if I didn't learn to control my temper around Caius. I at the time had thought he had been bluffing, but I guess I had been wrong. He'd never gone through with his threat, of course, because I left Volterra shortly afterwards. From what he had told Esme, it seemed my 'older brother' (I smiled slightly at that thought) would be more than willing to yank me back in line if I were to ever so foolishly cross it again. Well, that scary thought would definitely keep me in line. I did not want to imagine what that man would do if asked to 'straighten me out'.

"So," Esme stated after giving me some time to come to terms with what she had said, "mind your temper and there will be no need for me to call in Eleazar, understood?"

"Yes ma'am," I responded, somewhat unnerved yet somewhat in awe as well.

"Wonderful," Esme replied dryly before softening her expression. "I really do trust you Carlisle, so while I meant what I said, that threat was more for your peace of mind as you seem to need a proper incentive to behave, much like Emmett." She grinned at this point while I just rolled my eyes.

So, I had her trust but did I have the children's? Did I have Emmett's? I would have to speak with them before I could fully forgive myself, and before I could trust myself again.

We lay in contented silence for several moments before my wife asked, "What are we going to tell the children?"

I gave her a confused look, wondering what she meant by that. "I mean are we going to tell them what happened between us? Are we going to tell them how I punished you?"

I tensed at the thought, embarrassment coursing through me at the mere thought of telling the children I had been spanked by their mother. What would they think? Would this lower their opinion of me? Would they look down on me? Would they ridicule me?

"We do not have to tell them that," my wife immediately reassured, no doubt having picked up on my sudden distress.

I shook my head as I said, "We cannot keep this a secret from them, and besides I am certain Alice must have 'seen' what happened, which means all the others know as well." My embarrassment increased even more at this thought, imagining Alice and Edward witnessing the memory and their reactions along with their siblings.

"No, they won't know because before I left home I banned Alice from looking into our futures," Esme responded quickly, and I gave her a shocked look. Why would she have done that? Had she already been planning on spanking me?

"I had a feeling we would be discussing personal issues," Esme explained, "and I knew how private you were so I felt you would appreciate the fact that our children would not witness our discussion. I meant it when I said I did not come here with the intentions of disciplining you."

I nodded my head in understanding, a feeling of hope stirring in me. So the children didn't know.

"We don't have to tell them anything," Esme spoke, giving me an understanding look. "This can remain between you and me. I have no wish to humiliate you more than you already have been. I know you have your pride so I can only imagine how difficult submitting yourself to me for punishment must have been. You have suffered enough already over what occurred, so let us not add to it."

I heard her words and wanted so badly to agree, but it just did not feel right. It would be so easy to sweep this incident under the rug, but I somehow felt that would be wrong. The kids had a right to know. They deserved to know that I realized the severity of my actions and that I had been properly chastised for them. They needed to know that I too was subject to rules and that there were lines I was forbidden from crossing. Embarrassment burned away at me at the thought of confessing this to the kids, but that embarrassment would only serve as further punishment. I deserved this humiliation for what I had done, plain and simple. I would not be a coward and hide this away.

"They deserve to know what happened," I eventually spoke in a slow, pained voice, and Esme gave me a shocked look. I explained to her my reasoning and she eventually gave in. Sporting a sympathetic look she tried to assure me that all would be well and that our kids would be mature and understanding about this. I was not so sure, and already I was dreading their responses. Would they still respect me? Would they still respect my authority?

"It will be alright Carlisle, you'll see," my wife said with confidence. "We will inform them of what occurred, but we need not share any details. I will treat this as you do any of their punishments. They can know you were spanked, but they will not know how."

I nodded my head in agreement, feeling a bit of relief at the thought that they would not know I was spanked over Esme's knee. I knew it was a bit hypocritical of me to be so ashamed by my punishment when I told my children they had no reason to be, but then again I was their father and I had been spanked by my wife. This was not the norm.

My mind felt restless as I worried over this, so much so that Esme actually shushed me though I said nothing.

"How about I inform you of what happened after your abrupt departure on Friday?" she asked, and I tensed, not really sure I wanted to know before nodding my head. Maybe I did not want to know, but I certainly needed to know.

She began by speaking of how she consoled Emmett before Rosalie took over, and my heart constricted painfully. I really needed to speak with those two so that I could repair the damage I had done. I had to keep telling myself that there was still hope, but after hearing how heartbroken my bear was I was beginning to lose that hope.

"Once morning came and Emmett was feeling better he told us all what happened. I allowed the children to discuss their feelings on the matter after that without my input and I must admit I have never felt so proud of them," Esme recounted, a bright smile adorning her face at the memory. I gave her a curious look wanting to know what they had done.

"I remained out of their conversation as I felt they would treat my opinion as biased, and I did not want to influence what they would say. I truly wanted to know their thoughts. I will admit that I did fear at one point as you had that they would be furious with you. Now I always knew that they would forgive you," she rushed to say at my knowing gaze, "so don't give me that look. What I was afraid of was how long it would take to happen. As I listened to them speak I was already forming plans on whether or not I would bring you home right away or not." She frowned momentarily before giving a slight shake of her head.

"Thankfully," she continued, "I did not need to implement that plan. Instead I was pleasantly surprised to find that every single one of them, Rosalie included forgave you almost instantly."

"Even Rosalie?" I questioned disbelievingly. "I find that hard to believe."

"It's true though," she retorted, "Now hush and listen to what I am saying."

I gave her a cheeky grin and she rolled her eyes before speaking once more.

"Emmett was the first to start things off and he stated that while he felt angry, hurt, and mostly confused, he would forgive you," she informed me. "He did add that you could not expect things to go on like this had never occurred, and that something would have to happen before things could go back to normal."

I nodded my head, surprised that Emmett, the one whom I had hurt the most was the first to forgive. That boy was really something, I thought in awe. I knew he was the most resilient of all my kids, but this was, well, there were no words to describe how grateful and proud I myself felt towards my burly boy.

"Jasper was the next to voice his opinion," Esme said, "and he too admitted to being upset and confused by what occurred. However, in spite of those feelings he forgave you because he knew that you would be beating yourself up for what happened, and he was _absolutely certain_ that something like this would never occur again. You have not lost his trust."

I felt my throat constrict and I swallowed as I gave her a nod of understanding. I had feared that Jasper would feel I had broken his trust. He had only in the past few years begun to consider himself a member of this family so I had feared that he would see my actions as a betrayal, and that he would see me as someone untrustworthy. Now, hearing that he anticipated my feelings of guilt and that he had already forgiven me was a huge weight off my shoulders.

Esme was silent as I digested this information, her face kind and understanding.

"Alice," Esme spoke once more when I gave her my full attention, "was the next to speak and she forgave you instantly. She said she knew you were beating yourself up and that this would never happen again. She knew you were sorry and that was enough for her, so she forgave you."

I smiled, giving a small snort at how easily my angel had forgiven me. She had such a big heart, so full of love just like Esme.

"Oh yes," Esme suddenly recalled with some amusement, "Alice also wanted me to let you know that you had better come home because she did not spend decades looking for you just to have you run away."

I actually let out a laugh at this, having no trouble picturing my angel's face as she said this.

"Edward gave his opinion next," Esme stated, and I froze, instantly sobering as I feared what my first born had thought. Edward and I had been through a lot together. He had been with me while I learned how to be a father, and had suffered through a few of my mistakes along the way. He had always forgiven me, but I wondered if he would now.

"Edward felt betrayed. He did not come out and say it, but I could tell from his tone that was the way he felt," Esme informed me gently, and I gave a stiff nod, bracing myself for whatever came next. "He mentioned the first time you spanked him, and how he goaded you into losing your temper in an absurd attempt to convince you that he knew you would never hurt him." Oh Edward, I thought sadly, my mind instantly flashing back to that day. I am so sorry little man. I let you down.

"He also stated though," Esme spoke more loudly to garner my attention, "that he realized you were not a perfect man and that like them you too would make mistakes. He said that if you could forgive their mistakes, then they should be able to forgive yours. You have his forgiveness."

Relief flooded through me, and I closed my eyes to stop the tears that suddenly felt like flowing. I took deep breaths to settle myself down before preparing myself for what Rose said.

I noted my wife watching me closely, so I gave her a reassuring look that I was certain she did not really buy. She did not press the matter, thankfully, instead choosing to speak.

"Rosalie's feelings were more akin to mine," she remarked. "She felt angry, hurt, and betrayed. Part of these feelings stem from the fact that it was her mate you hurt, but they also stem from the fact that you are her daddy and she _never_ would have believed you capable of this. You are the first man that she forged a true relationship with, do you realize that?" she questioned with a hint of anger, and I shook my head no as I had never thought about it.

"Well, you are," she confirmed. "You know her relationship with her parents was not a good one. They used her to get ahead in life. She never had any male friends. The only attention she received from men were lustful looks, and then came along Royce King. I do not need to explain that failed relationship to you, do I?" she nearly snapped, and I hastily shook my head in the negative.

"You are the first man she ever gave her full and complete trust to and she feels that you betrayed that trust when you hurt her mate. Now, you know your kitten, Carlisle and you know that when she is hurt she chooses to focus more on her anger because it is an easier emotion for her to hold onto. That is what is happening now."

I nodded my head, feeling completely horrible at what I had done to my little kitten. She had placed her complete trust in me and I had shattered it. Would I ever be able to gain it back? I could not bear the thought of losing her, but she was so stubborn. Would she give me a chance to explain? Or would she hold onto that old hatred she felt towards me and eventually leave, taking Emmett with her?

"Before you start thinking all is lost," Esme continued with a knowing look, "let me remind you that Rosalie has forgiven you. Like Edward she realized you are not perfect and that you will make mistakes, but like me she also felt that this was one mistake that should _never_ have happened. She felt that while you were allowed mistakes, you were also to be held to a higher standard than the rest of us. She was not quite ready to forgive you after speaking, but after I said my piece and after hearing her siblings and Emmett speak some more she gave it. She said to let you know that you are welcome home but that she will be watching you very closely."

I grinned at the thought, noticing the smirk on my wife's face. I knew she had already told me several times that the kids had forgiven me, but hearing it in more detail somehow made it a little more believable. I would still want to hear it from their mouths, but I was suddenly starting to feel a little better.

"Your children love you darling, as do I," my wife murmured with the utmost honestly. "Do not let this one mistake haunt you or change who you are. You are a wonderful husband and father and we want and need you in our lives. You created this family Carlisle, so do not abandon us when we need you most."

I found myself speechless for the umpteenth time today. Her words were so heartfelt and they meant so much to me that I had no idea how to respond. My throat was once more feeling tight, and I had the sudden urge to cry. I hastily rubbed at my face, hoping to keep the tears at bay. I had cried enough, I felt. Ah, but her words had struck a chord in me. They all loved me, they really did; and they not only wanted me, but they _needed_ me. Me: the disappointing, rebellious, weak failure. _How_ could I have turned out so lucky?

Please God, I started to pray mentally, please do not let me fail them ever again. Do not take them from me. _Please God, I beg you_.

"Carlisle, stop thinking and rest," Esme suddenly stated, and I stared at her in startled confusion. How did she expect me to stop thinking?

"Close your eyes and relax," she ordered. "You have been through a lot of emotional distress recently and it will do you good to relax. Right now you are much too stressed and tensed, and I hope to remedy that by helping you go into a meditative trance."

"You know I can't," I responded mildly. "I have never been able to relax enough to do so."

"Today will be different," she retorted simply, "now do as I said."

I gave her a doubtful look before doing as she ordered. Oh well, there was no harm in trying, I supposed. It would be pleasant to shut off my mind for a bit. I certainly felt emotionally drained and mentally exhausted.

"Close your eyes and focus only on the sound of my voice. Tune everything else out," my wife advised, and I quickly followed suit. I felt her hands press on either side of my head, her fingers gently massaging my temples as she quietly began to sing.

_Sleep my love, and peace attend thee_

_ All through the night;_

_ Guardian angels God will lend thee,_

_ All through the night,_

_ Soft and drowsy hours are creeping,_

_ Hill and vale in slumber steeping,_

_ I my loving vigil keeping,_

_ All through the night_

_ Angels watching ever round thee,_

_ All through the night,_

_ In thy slumbers close surround thee,_

_ All through the night,_

_ They should of all fears disarm thee,_

_ No forebodings should alarm thee,_

_ They will let no peril harm thee,_

_ All through the night_

I listened to the words of the song until they began to fade and all I heard was the mere sound of my wife's melodious voice. Slowly I felt myself sinking and sinking into unconsciousness, random pictures and sounds popping into my mind. I was unaware of what was going on or where I was. I heard beautiful music surround me and eventually I knew no more.

**A/N: **The song is an ancient welsh folk song called All Through the Night. There is a modern version of this song sung by Cyndi Lauper, but I'm not using that version.

Okay, so things have calmed down a bit, but they are only going to heat up once more because the third and final flashback will occur in the next chapter. The kids also show up, so we'll see how that goes! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW!


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Twilight

**Warning:** This story contains references to _disciplinary spanking_

**A/N: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE REVIEWS! **You guys are great! I am SO, SO glad that you're enjoying my story. I was worried for a bit there when the amount of reviews went down that this was dragging on too long, but you guys came through. Thanks. Loved how everybody liked the Eleazar bit. I actually only added that whole bit on a whim as I was editing my chapter two days ago, so way glad it went over well. :D

This chapter contains the third and final flashback to Carlisle's human life. It is as angst filled, if not more than the others so be prepared for another downturn. But do not fear because there WILL be a happy ending. With the help of Esme and the kids Carlisle will survive and come out on top a wiser and stronger man than before. Just prepare yourself for more sadness...kinda sorry...but not really...okay kinda...maybe...just read!

**Chapter 14: Reunion**

**Esme's POV:**

I continued to hum softly as I watched my husband 'sleep'. I had a feeling that he would be able to go into the meditative trance this time because of how mentally exhausted he was. I had also noted how my childhood lullaby seemed to soothe him as much as it did the children, so I assumed his exhaustion coupled with my lullaby would be enough to help, and I was right.

He was completely out of it I noted as I shifted around on the bed. I had already called out his name softly and ran a hand through his hair, but I had gotten no reaction. Good, he needed this rest badly. My dear husband had been through the mill these past few days and his mind could use a little downtime to recharge so to speak.

I stared at my husband's face with tender eyes and brushed away a few loose strands of hair. I had never seen him look so unguarded and relaxed before. His eternal youthfulness shown through brightly and once more I found myself remembering that Carlisle really wasn't that old, physically at least. I was sure his centuries of life had added to his maturity, but I had no doubt that Carlisle had always behaved older and more mature than his physical age even in his human years.

I was certain that Samuel would not have put up with any childish antics. I frowned softly, this thought making me incredibly sad as I realized how abysmal of a childhood Carlisle must have had, if he had one at all. I could not see Samuel encouraging his son to go out and have fun with his friends. How horrible!

I knew Carlisle quite well and while he was certainly a mature and serious individual he also had a playful, mischievous side as well; and I had seen this side emerge little by little over the years. It pained me to realize that this playful side of his had no doubt been beaten down at an early age. He was a quiet and serious man by nature because that was how he had been raised. I pictured in my mind what young Carlisle would have been like had he not been raised by Samuel.

He would have been a little hellion I thought with a fond grin, placing a loving kiss on my husband's forehead. His stubbornness and pride overshadowed all of our children, and when he felt he was right there was no convincing him otherwise. His mischievous look was one that just spelled trouble and I could only imagine all the antics he would have gotten into. He was smart, too smart, and that no doubt would have lead to a smart mouth. Not to mention he was charming, well spoken, and a good actor. Oh, and let's not forget his insatiable curiosity. Yes, oh yes I thought with a light chuckle. Little Carlisle would have been worse than all my children combined.

I cuddled up next to Carlisle and inhaled his unique scent. I was just closing my eyes when I heard yelling in the distance. Sitting straight up I strained my ears and became completely shocked when I heard my children calling out mine and Carlisle's names. What in God's name were they doing here? How did they find us? And I thought I had told them to stay home!

Mixed feelings coursed through me as I heard them approaching the cottage. A part of me was elated and relieved as I wanted to see them, and I wanted to know how Emmett was doing. Another part of me though was angered at having been disobeyed, and worried that Carlisle would not be ready to face them yet. I had told Carlisle he need not worry about their reactions concerning how I had spanked him, but in truth I was a little worried myself.

I closed my mind off to Edward and made my way towards the front door. As I neared it I could hear my children speaking.

"Do you think they're in there?" Emmett whispered.

"Please, this has got Esme written all over it," Edward responded with confidence.

"I don't smell them though," Emmett retorted and I heard a sigh of exasperation before Rosalie stated, "That's because it's been raining Emmett. Their scents have been washed away. Besides, I agree with Edward. This is has got Mom's signature all over it."

"Does it really?" I asked curiously as I opened the front door, feeling quite satisfied when all the children froze and gave me wide-eyed looks. My big bear of course was the first to recover, and he bounded on over to me with a loud yell of, "Mama, well don't you look simply ravishing!" And with that he wrapped his big arms around me and swung me around like a rag doll. Despite my anger I could not help but laugh.

"Alright Emmett, that is enough!" I scolded lightly. "Put me down!"

He immediately obeyed, setting me down gently before letting go and throwing me a cheeky grin. Once more I could not help but give a light laugh. He reminded me so much of his father right now.

The others approached us now, each one giving me a hug in greeting.

"So, I've never heard of this cottage," Emmett stated with a slight smirk, "why would that be, Mother dearest?" He wagged his eyebrows at me suggestively, and I just rolled my eyes, covering my mouth to keep from laughing.

"It's exactly what you're thinking Emmett, now quit distracting me and explain what you are doing here," I demanded, my tone suddenly stern.

The amused grins immediately left their faces to be left with guilty, apologetic looks.

"It's my fault we're here," Alice confessed as she stepped forward. "I couldn't stand not knowing what was going on. I was really worried that something was wrong or could go wrong so I disobeyed you and looked into your future." I narrowed my eyes, worried at what she may have seen. I was about to demand she tell me when she lowered her head and said, "I saw Dad crying and you unable to console him, and when I told the others we all decided to come and help."

My eyebrows rose in surprise, my mind racing to figure out what she may have seen. Had this happened already or was this something that had yet to happen? It must be in the future still because so far I had been able to offer my husband all the comfort he needed. Growing worried, I wondered what could possibly trigger such a response from Carlisle.

Alice, apparently concerned with my silence went on to quickly say, "I haven't checked your future at all since that time. I've only seen that little tidbit, I swear Mama. I'm sorry for disobeying you, but I was so, so worried about you!" She was nearly in tears at this point, so I pulled her into my arms.

"It's not just her fault," Jasper added, his eyes full of concern as he gazed at me and his mate. "We all decided that it was a good idea for her to look, and we all decided to come here." I stared at the others noting as they each gave serious nods in agreement.

I felt what little anger I had flow right out of me at this point. How could I be angry with them when they were only seeking to help? They must have been worried sick about Carlisle. I should have made a better effort to call them earlier, but I was so wrapped up with Carlisle that it had entirely slipped my mind. Oh, I am such an awful mother!

"No you aren't Mom, don't say that," Edward countered firmly. "You're the best mother ever and we figured you had your hands full with Dad."

"Yeah Ma, we know Pops can be a stubborn jerk when he puts his mind to it," Emmett concurred, and I was so relieved by their understanding and caring that I could not bring myself to reprimand him for having insulted his father.

"So how is he?" Rosalie asked with an air of indifference that fooled no one.

"He's doing better," I stated, closing my mind off as I suddenly wondered at what more to say. Should I tell them about what had happened? Should I mention the spanking now or wait for Carlisle to tell them himself? I thought it over rapidly before deciding I would be the one to tell them. I was feeling quite protective of my husband and I wanted to make sure the kids knew in no uncertain terms that I would not put up with them ridiculing their father in anyway.

I let out a tired sigh, causing the kids to all give me looks of concern. How was I going to say this? How would I bring this up?

"Are you alright Mom?" Alice asked as she gazed up at me with worried eyes.

"What do you mean he's doing better?" Edward pressed. "Has he forgiven himself? Is he coming home?"

I gave a mental grimace, realizing that my mental shields were not as strong as usual. I quickly fortified them so that Edward would not see anything I did not want him to. I then took in a steadying breath before deciding to dive right into it. Take charge, I told myself. You are their mother and they are looking to you for answers and support right now. You must remain strong.

"I am doing just fine sweetheart," I answered Alice as I smoothed back her short hair. Looking towards Edward, I then said, "Yes, he is coming home and he has mostly forgiven himself. He still feels the need to speak with all of you, especially you Emmett before he can fully forgive himself."

Sighs of relief were let out, the atmosphere lifting both from my news and Jasper's influence.

"Can we see him?" Emmett asked as he took a few steps towards the door. "Where is he anyway? Why isn't he out here? Is he too afraid to speak to us? Is he angry? Does he not want to see me? Do you think I should leave?" My burly boy questioned rapidly, quickly working himself up into a state. Releasing Alice from my embrace I immediately went over to Emmett and wrapped my arms around him.

"Shhh Emmett, everything is alright," I whispered into his ears, easily feeling as his body trembled from fear of being rejected by Carlisle. How alike those two were, I thought to myself. Each one fearing rejection from the other when both clearly felt nothing but forgiveness and love for one another.

"Of course Carlisle wants to see you Emmett, how could you ever think any differently?" I chastised softly as I stared into his anxious eyes. "Carlisle is not out here because he is 'sleeping'," I explained, and they each understood that to mean Carlisle was in a meditative trance. It was as close to sleeping as we could get so we just took to referring to it as so.

"Oh," Emmett mumbled, a sheepish look crossing his expression as he gently extricated himself from my embrace. "I thought Pops couldn't sleep," he mentioned with some surprise and I noted Rose and his siblings felt the same.

"Your father has been through a lot the past day and he is mentally and emotionally spent. His mind welcomed the rest quite easily with my assistance," I explained.

"Mom, what's been going on?" Jasper questioned with a shrewd expression. "You look as though you've been run through the mill a time or two and yer feelins', well, you ain't exactly feelin' as calm as you seem," he spoke, giving me a somewhat apologetic look.

"You're blocking me too," Edward added in concern. "Why? What happened?"

I let out another tired sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. I really did not want to have this discussion right now. I was considering dismissing their questions until another time when I felt energy and calmness spread through me. Knowing instantly it was Jasper I shot the boy a pointed look and he immediately stopped.

"Sorry Mama," he mumbled apologetically, "but it seemed like ya could use a little help." Seeing nothing but honest concern in his eyes I relaxed my face and gave him a small smile.

"Thank you for the concern Jasper, but I am as fine as can be considering the situation. Now, I am going to explain to you all what happened so I'm going to need you to remain silent until I finish. I will not tell you everything mind you, because much of what occurred was private. It will be up to your father whether or not to reveal details, do you understand?"

Slightly confused looks were exchanged by the five of them before nods of assent were given.

"I told you already that Carlisle was having a hard time forgiving himself for what happened," I mentioned, and they all nodded. I looked towards Emmett as I then said, "He was extremely distraught over what he did to you and refused to believe that you could possibly have forgiven him. He felt undeserving, and he felt as though he had failed each of you." I looked each one of them in the face, pleased to see all of them looking upset. I could tell Rosalie was trying to hide her true feelings with a haughty expression, but I had known my princess long enough to be able to see past her facades.

"Why did he think he had failed us?" Alice asked in disbelief.

"He promised you all that he would never raise a hand to you in anger, so he felt he failed after what happened with Emmett," I explained. I looked back over at Emmett at this point to see him looking more and more upset.

I bit my lip, wondering how much more to say.

"You got through to him though, didn't you?" Edward asked when I said nothing. "You said he no longer feels like this."

I gave a slight shake of my head as I gently corrected him. "I said no such thing Edward. Carlisle has accepted that we have forgiven him and is now well on his way to forgiving himself; however, there is much more going on now than you realize. What happened Friday night brought up a lot of emotional trauma and he has had a terrible time dealing with it."

"What do you mean?" Jasper pressed, his concern and confusion coming off of him in waves.

"I believe what happened dredged up memories your father would rather have left forgotten," I answered heavily. "In addition to dealing with his guilt over having hurt you Emmett, he has been dealing with the abuse he suffered at the hands of Samuel."

A few gasps were heard.

"He's been likening himself to his father again, hasn't he," Edward stated morosely, and my throat constricted slightly as I gave a single curt nod.

"Let me talk to him Mama," Emmett suddenly insisted. "He's being ridiculous! Pops is nothing like that abusive bastard! Yeah, okay, he overdid it when it came to my punishment, but I know he feels terrible for what happened; and let me tell you, I doubt Samuel ever felt this kind of guilt after beating Pops down."

"I agree completely son, and I will let you speak with Carlisle, but right now I have more to say. There is something more you need to know," I informed him. "Your father's guilt and despair were so intense he refused to listen to or believe anything I said. When I first found him he was convinced he had lost us all and when I told him he hadn't he decided that he would not return. He convinced himself that we would be better off without him and that he was unsafe. He teetered back and forth with being furious and being distraught. He tried several times to anger me in the hopes that I would hurt him."

Edward let out an exasperated groan as the others looked at me in surprise and worry.

"I had to do something to get through to him. I had to do something to get him to forgive himself. He was seeking punishment so I decided to oblige him," I said. Now, along with the surprise and worry I also saw confusion.

"What do you mean you obliged him?" Rosalie asked suspiciously.

Here goes nothing, I thought. "I spanked him," I answered casually, like it was no big deal, while at the same time bracing myself for whatever may come.

Silence. Stunned silence. Disbelieving silence.

"You-you did _what_?!" Emmett gasped in absolute shock, a soft chuckle escaping him as he no doubt believed I was joking.

"I spanked him," I repeated, giving him a raised eyebrow when he opened and closed his mouth, no sound coming out as I for once silenced my most rambunctious child.

"Yer joshin' us," Jasper inputted with utmost sincerity, maneuvering himself so that he was looking right at me.

"No, I'm not," I responded honestly, and his eyes widened almost comically. I stared over at Edward, Alice and Rosalie and found them to be in a similar state. Well, at least they hadn't started laughing, I thought ruefully.

I allowed them several minutes of silence, but when they still said nothing I decided to offer a little more explanation.

"I was the one who suggested the punishment when I figured out Carlisle would not forgive himself unless he felt he had been punished. This was not what he expected, but when I informed him that it was this or nothing then he decided to give in. I did not force him," I stressed. "Carlisle is not my child and I would never subject him to this without his full consent; so, while I suggested the punishment, it was Carlisle who ultimately asked me to administer it. As of now I believe it worked, but I am not certain. We have been discussing other matters since he, well, since the punishment ended."

I paused at this point, a bit of anxiousness escaping me as I waited for the kids to speak. Please do not hate me, I thought in sudden desperation. Please understand why this had to be done. Please show maturity.

"Is he alright?" Alice finally asked in a small voice, and I gave a slow nod, feeling a huge amount of relief that I saw no scorn or derision on their faces. Perhaps they were still dealing with the shock of what I had said, but at the moment they seemed more concerned with whether or not Carlisle was okay.

Giving Alice a loving look, I honestly replied, "I believe so. We have not really discussed it."

"Why?" Edward questioned with furrowed brow.

"Because we have been discussing his childhood," I responded, feeling no need to expand on what exactly was discussed.

The kids exchanged shocked looks, knowing just as well as I that Carlisle did not ever discuss his past. They then had their own silent conversation before turning back to me.

"I can't believe you spanked Pops," Emmett murmured, giving a bewildered shake of his head. "I mean, this is Pops we're talking about. He's a tough guy. Did it even hurt him?" he asked with a slight smirk, and I narrowed my eyes at him.

"What exactly are you insinuating Emmett Cullen?" I demanded, deeply offended that he felt me incapable of delivering an effective spanking.

Jasper, no doubt sensing my change in mood sent me a soothing wave while turning towards his brother. "Woah Em, I wouldn't go there bro," he advised wisely. "Take it from me. Mama is more than capable of deliverin' a proper lickin'. I guarantee Papa is feelin' it."

Emmett gave Jasper a slightly startled look before turning an assessing eye to me. I had a feeling there was a part of him that still was unable to comprehend what I had done.

"Did he cry?" he asked, and I was somewhat surprised to note he was being completely serious with me. He even showed genuine concern, but despite that I refused to answer the question.

"I'm sorry Emmett, but I will not answer that," I told him. "I will treat his punishment as your father treats yours, meaning I will not discuss details with you. It will be up to Carlisle whether or not he wants to discuss anything with you, but you _will not_ pester him about this," I added on sternly.

**Emmett's POV:**

I couldn't believe what Mom had just confessed to. I mean I really, _really_ could not believe she had blistered Pop's backside. Man oh man, talk about _unbelievable_! This was just mind boggling! Who woulda thought that my sweet Mama bear would do this? I knew she was gonna rip into the old man, but I so did not see this coming. Wow… I just…wow.

I turned towards each one of my siblings wanting to know if they felt as I did. Alice looked concerned, if for Pops or Mom or both I didn't know, but she no longer looked surprised. That didn't surprise me. Alice was the most accepting and she probably was already over the shock, if in fact she had ever been shocked. Jasper, like his mate seemed to have overcome his shock with calm acceptance. I dunno, maybe he'd heard of mates disciplining one another in other covens, but he now looked to be sharing Alice's concern. Edward, with his wide eyes still looked stunned and I had no doubt he felt much like I did. Good, at least I wasn't the only one. Turning towards my Rosie I found her to be conflicted. There was a strong glimmer of satisfaction in her eyes as she no doubt felt Pops had deserved whatever Mom had dished out, but there was also concern, and I knew Rose well enough to know that concern was for Pops.

Looking back towards my mom I inwardly frowned at how worn and stressed she looked. Feeling suddenly protective of her I asked, "Pops didn't give you a hard time did he?" I doubted he had, but I wasn't quite sure what could have caused her to look like this. My mama was not well.

Mom blinked at me, apparently caught off guard by my question before she shook her head. "No Emmett, he did not." I relaxed slightly not sure if I really believed her. This was Pops though, I argued with myself. He wouldn't have put up a fuss.

Looking once more at Mom I studied her more closely trying to discern why she still seemed to be so upset. I wanted to ask her a ton of questions, but I had the feeling she wouldn't answer them, so instead I just walked right up to her, placed my hands on her shoulders and said in my most serious voice, "Everything is going to be alright Mom, don't you worry. I'm fine. Pops is fine, and we'll be back to ourselves, driving you up a wall in no time." And with that I pulled her in for a hug. She immediately returned the embrace, chuckling softly as she buried her head in the crook of my neck.

"Oh Emmett," she sighed softly, "thank you sweetheart." I held her in my arms for a few more seconds before she broke away. I could see tears in her eyes, but she quickly rubbed a hand over her face as she composed herself. She looked dead tired, I thought in worry. This must have taken a toll on her.

"Mom, why don't you go hunting," Edward suggested gently, seemingly sharing the same worry for our mother that I did. The others quickly voiced their agreements.

"We'll take care of Dad," Jasper assured her as Alice added, "Yeah Mom, take all the time you need. We've got everything under control here."

She stared at each one of us, clearly torn before Rosalie stated, "We won't pester him Mom if that's what you're afraid of. We told you we'd already forgiven him and that's the truth. If Dad wakes up before you get back we will be supportive."

Mom gazed at Rose with deep appreciation and pride before nodding her head in acceptance. "Alright," she agreed tiredly, "I will go hunting, but I will not be gone long. Please let your father rest, he desperately needs it, and if he wakes up do not push him into talking about anything. Be gentle and understanding as he is sincerely concerned about all your reactions to what he did and his punishment."

"Don't worry Mom, we won't give him a hard time," Edward asserted firmly. I gave a small grin as I mentally told him, _It seems like we're about to induct another member into the Cullen Spanking Support Group_. _Never in a million years woulda thought Pops would be joining though_.

Edward shot me a look that clearly said 'shut up', but his eyes were full of amusement and his lips thin as he fought back a smile. Jasper gave us both curious looks, no doubt confused by the sudden amusement he felt coming off of us.

"Have a good hunt Mom," I spoke, "and take as long as you need. Pops is in safe hands."

Gracing us all with loving, appreciative smiles Mom bid us farewell and took off. My siblings, Rose, and I automatically began looking at one another somehow able to express our shock, concern, and determination to help our parents out all at once.

"Mom is not doin' well," Jasper stated with a frown as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Her emotions were all over the place," he commented. "She was feelin' anxious, worried, saddened, guilty, an' tired. Whatever happened with Dad really wore her out."

"She's been put in a sticky situation," I mentioned, my stomach twisting with guilt. "She's been torn from the get go between defending us and being loyal to her mate." I let out a humorless chuckle before saying, "I know Mom just got back from vacation but after all this I think she's going to need another one."

A few weak smiles were given before Edward said, "Mom and Dad are a team and they are used to leaning on one another in times of stress. Right now though, Mom is dealing with everything on her own as I doubt Dad is in any condition to be supportive."

"I remember how guilty Mom felt after she gave me a lickin' that one time, but at least she had Dad ta help her," Jasper recounted. "She had no one this time."

"Yeah, and not only is she dealing with guilt for having sp-punished Dad," Rosalie added, "she is dealing with Dad's past. Mom mentioned that what happened with Emmett brought up a lot of bad memories. Well, it must have really affected him because Dad _never_ talks about his past, at least not willingly. I can only imagine how bad a shape he must have been in for Mom to have been able to get him to talk."

"Dads never been able to fall into a meditative trance either so that also shows how bad things have gotten. Dads breaking down and Mom has had to deal with it all alone," Edward spoke grimly.

Silence greeted his words as we all tried to digest how bad things were. It was worse than I had imagined that's for sure. Mom was in a bad state so I could only imagine how Dad was. I mean he was the one that had to deal with not only the punishment from Mom, but with talking about his past, which we all knew he hated to do."

"Okay, it's obvious both Mom and Dad are in rough shape," Alice stated, a determined glint in her eye, "So it's going to be up to us to help them out. That means no messing about you guys," she warned, giving us each a threatening look. "We've got to tread carefully because I doubt either one wants to accept our help. Mom is more likely to open up but I think we can all agree that Dad will give us trouble since he is the suffer in silence kind of guy."

"You got that right," Edward agreed with complete certainty. "He's not as bad as he used to be thankfully, but he still keeps things to himself."

"Yeah, I've noticed that as well," Jasper remarked. "He doesn't like to show us when he's upset. I've confronted him a time or two when I've felt him suddenly become sad, guilty, and ashamed but he quickly brushed my concerns off, his emotions changing back to happiness and contentment. He's pretty good at distractin'," Jazz muttered with narrowed eyes. "Those times I confronted him he managed to turn the conversation to lighter matters without me realizin' it."

"Those emotions were probably relating to his past," Rosalie asserted, a look of anger crossing her expression. "Dad is the most secretive with it comes to that. There have been several times where I've wanted to talk to him about his past, but I've just never felt comfortable doing so."

"He wouldn't have answered you anyway," Edward told her. "He's rarely ever mentioned his past willingly. I've known him the longest and I still have little idea of what he was up to prior to finding me, especially in regards to his human years. I think we can all agree that Dad was traumatized by his experiences and that is why he doesn't bring it up."

"He's led us on to believe that he's not bothered by what happened, but his actions state otherwise," Rosalie added.

"His emotions say the same," Jasper said. "When Dad confessed how he received his scars I could tell he still felt ashamed of them. I could also sense deep sadness, guilt, and anger just under the surface but they vanished quickly as we changed topics. Whether he's willin' to acknowledge it or not, Dad is still bothered by his childhood."

"Since Mom got him to open up about it though, I'm hoping she was able to help. This is a step forward right?" Alice questioned.

"Maybe," I responded with a light shrug. "It's a good thing that he's opening up as it's helpful to get things off your chest, but…," I trailed off, staring over at my Rose. She caught my look and finished my sentence. "But once you open up that door it's like a floodgate is released. He's going to start recalling more memories and in more detail, which will only make things worse, at least at first. If he keeps on opening up to Mom then he should be fine, but if he shuts down and internalizes everything, then he's going to have some serious problems."

"You can't go back to the way things were," Jasper stated knowledgeably, sharing an understanding look with Rosalie. Those two were the ones who had the worst trauma in their past, so I knew they more than anyone understood a little of what Pops must be going through. They'd had their floodgates opened, but thankfully Pops and Mom had been able to help both of them deal with their past traumas.

"Edward," I suddenly stated, "we know from what Mom said that we're dealing with Dad's human years. You know more about his past than any of us. What issues is he dealing with here? I know Mom can help him, but after seeing the state she's in, it's obvious she needs help, and that's us. What do we need to know before Dad wakes up?"

Edward grimaced before running a hand through his bronze hair. "Look guys, I've told you everything I know about Dad's past. You know about his abusive father, and you know about the Ariana incident. Outside of that, I know nothing else."

"Samuel beat him," Alice spat out with uncharacteristic viciousness, "but we know he didn't just abuse Dad physically. What did he say?" she questioned Edward.

Edward inhaled a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly as his mind no doubt went back to the day he witnessed the memory. Opening his eyes he looked at us all with dark eyes as he said, "Samuel was very derogatory. He insulted Dad, calling him weak and pathetic. He said Dad was a disgrace and a failure." I gritted my teeth, a growl rumbling in my chest at his words.

"Right before the memory hit," Edward recalled, "I could hear Samuel's voice in Dad's head. He was insulting and telling Dad he was just like him. He was ridiculing Dad for feeling so guilty and upset for having spanked me."

Rosalie let out a hiss, her eyes darkening with anger. "So Samuel tore Dad down and made him feel worthless," she spat.

"Basically," Edward responded in a grim tone.

"Okay, so we gotta make sure we don't let Pops talk himself down. We know he's beating himself up over what happened with me, but we can't let him believe that he's anything like his psychopathic father," I declared.

"It's gonna be you that has the most influence Em," Jasper informed me. "You were the one he hurt, so you are the one he'll listen to the most. You two need ta discuss what happened without any of our interference."

I nodded my head, suddenly feeling a little anxious. I'd been pretty much ignoring what happened to me since I figured out how upset Pops was. I'd been more intent on helping him that I still hadn't quite digested how I really felt about it all. Hurt and anger welled up in me, but I quickly squashed it down, earning a searching look from both my brothers.

"Dad will want to know exactly how you feel Emmett, so don't try and downplay your feelings. If you're hurt or angry, then tell him," Edward advised, staring at me with concerned eyes.

"But not right now," I argued firmly. "Dad needs us. This can wait." Edward gave me a doubtful look while Rosalie came over and took one of my hands in hers.

"Dad needs you to talk to him," Edward refuted just as firmly. "Now is the perfect time. You heard Mom. He's forgiven himself but only up to a certain extent. He needs our forgiveness and yours most of all before we can put this all behind us."

"As much as I hate agreeing with my know-it-all brother, Edward is right," Rosalie said to me in a gentle voice. "You and Dad need to talk things through." I stared into her eyes full of honest concern and gave a reluctant nod. "Okay guys, we'll talk as soon as possible," I agreed, and they all gave me nods of support and relief.

"How about we go inside and see how Dad is doing?" Alice suggested after a few awkward moments of silence. I immediately gave her a big grin as I enthusiastically responded, "Hell yeah! I wanna see how Pops looks when he's sleeping. Do you think he sucks his thumb?" I questioned impishly getting the desired rolling eyes and amused looks from Rose and my siblings.

"Yeah Em, I'm sure he does," Jasper drawled sarcastically as he and Alice led the way in. We all followed, the air charged with sudden eagerness. It seemed I wasn't the only one feeling curious at the prospect of catching Pops in an unguarded moment. The guy was usually so uptight and controlled, hence the whole debacle with us kids trying to push him over the edge. Gotta admit it wasn't our best idea ever, but in all honestly none of us ever expected we'd succeed.

We all traipsed silently into the house, careful to not make any noise. We certainly didn't want to wake the old man as Mom would have our hides. She was adamant that he needed his sleep so it would be a little counterproductive to our 'help the parents out' mission if we disturbed his beauty rest. As we walked through the house I could clearly see the 'rents influence everywhere. On the wall was a painting featuring medieval medicine while further down there was a vase with fake flowers that used to reside in one of our older houses. We were just passing a doorway to the kitchen when I stumbled into Jasper and Alice who had suddenly stopped walking.

"Hey!" I protested in a whisper. "What the hell?!"

They didn't respond. Instead Jasper asked, "What d'ya think happened in there?" I quickly turned my head to look inside the kitchen and was surprised by what I saw. Bits of wood which originally made up a table were scattered all over. There was a dent in the wall, and I gleaned that someone had thrown the previously mentioned wood at it. Curiosity brimming I walked inside to see the countertop under the window severely cracked.

"Oh man," I exhaled in awe. "Do you think it happened in here? Do you think Dad broke the table?" I turned towards all my siblings to find them all staring at the mess with wide eyes.

"It's possible," Edward eventually in a doubtful voice, "but I don't know. This looks more like someone losing their temper than a, um, well, y'know," he remarked with sudden embarrassment.

"It didn't happen in here," Alice stated with such certainty that we all stared at her in surprise.

"How do you know?" I asked suspiciously. I thought she hadn't seen this happening..

"Because it happened here," she replied simply, moving aside to allow us to walk through another archway that led to what looked like a living room. I knew right away she was right, not because of the broken chair, but because of the dreaded piece of leather lying innocently on the sofa. I felt queasy just at the sight of it, my mind flashing back to Friday's punishment. That thing needed to be destroyed.

"Holy crap," Edward murmured in absolute shock, "you don't think she used that on him, do you?"

My eyes widened, my mind not having made that connection when I had seen the object. Oh my god. Mom hadn't just spanked Pops, she'd whipped him. What the hell! To date I'd been the only one to be on the receiving end of that cursed belt, so the others didn't really know how bad it really was. My worry for Pops suddenly increased ten-fold as I knew _exactly_ how he must be feeling right now.

"That belt would feel an awful lot like a strap, wouldn't it?" Rosalie remarked in a quiet, distant voice and we all turned to her at once.

"Yes," Jasper answered slowly, not quite understanding why Rosalie was asking the question. Edward and I did because we suddenly shared a worried look.

"What?" Alice asked in confusion. "What is it—Oh," she mumbled, her eyes going wide as she made the connection. "Samuel was fond of using a strap on Carlisle," she stated more than asked, and Jasper gave a gasp as he too finally understood what Rosalie was saying.

"Mom said Dad had been dealin' with issues from his childhood, and then when Mom punishes him she uses a belt. Yer thinkin' this may have brought up more or worse memories?" Jasper questioned, and my mate gave a slight nod.

"Yes and no," she responded sadly. "I was thinking more that Dad may have had a flashback, which might explain the broken chair and tattered shirt. Dad isn't one for breaking furniture, and I have no doubt he'd be even less inclined to do so during a punishment as he would view it as a weakness. He wouldn't want Mom to think he was trying to get away; but if he lost himself in a memory…," she trailed off with a grimace. I knew my Rose knew what she was talking about because she'd ended up having a flashback once when Pops had punished her.

"Then he wouldn't have known who she was or where he was. He would have panicked," Edward finished knowledgeably. "Dad lost himself in the memory dealing with Ariana, and it was only after I struck him that he came back to the present."

I stared at my little bro with some respect. "You hit Pops and lived to tell about it? Nice."

Edward rolled his eyes while Rosalie smacked my arm. "That wasn't the point Emmett and you know it," she scolded, and I gave her an apologetic look. "The point is," she stated with a stern look at me, "that Dad may have had a flashback during his punishment. We can't know for certain, of course, but I wouldn't be surprised if he did."

"Come on, I don't want to be in here anymore," Alice spoke anxiously. "I want to see Dad." And with that she walked out of the room, all of us instantly following as she led us down another hallway and into a bedroom.

"Wow," were the words uttered by Alice as our first glimpse of the room revealed a shattered bookcase, a dent in the wall, and a broken, dresser, desk, and lamp. Holy shizznits, what the hell did our parents get up to when we weren't there? Either somebody had a hell of a temper tantrum or the 'rents got a little too enthusiastic, if you catch my drift.

We slowly and very quietly inched our way into the room taking in the damage before all our eyes focused at once on the bed, or more precisely the figure lying in the bed. Pops was (unsurprisingly) lying on his stomach with his head on a pillow. He wasn't moving, not even to breathe so it was kind of creepy as he really looked dead. There were no covers so his bare back with all its scars were prominently displayed. Rosalie grabbed hold of my hand as we moved in a little closer. We could see his face at this point, and right away we all noted how utterly beat he looked. The circles under his eyes stood out more than ever and he was also paler than usual. He looked so freakin tired, and the more I stared at him the more I noted how young Pops really was.

Pops was always so mature, responsible, in control and all knowing that I never really stopped to consider his physical age. Truthfully, I had been totally surprised when I had found out he was only twenty-three, a few years older than me. I had thought for sure he had to have been in his thirties, but that was only because he acted so much older than he was. Staring down at him now though, it was really easy to see the twenty-three year old. It was really easy to see his youth and vulnerability, and that really bothered me.

I didn't think him weak or anything. No, instead this made me be even more in awe of him than I already had been. Pops had been only twenty-three when he'd been turned, and he'd had to deal with the change all on his own. He didn't have anyone to explain anything to him or to reassure him that everything was alright. He didn't have anyone to tell him that he wasn't a monster and that he wasn't damned to hell. He didn't have anyone to tell him that he would never be alone even if he wanted to be, and that he was welcomed and loved.

"We should go," I blurted out quietly, suddenly wanting to be anywhere but here. "Pops wouldn't want us to see him like this," I explained before making a hasty retreat. I made my way outside, wanting to get away from any reminder of what had happened or how badly my stupidity had messed up my parents. Why couldn't I just behave, I berated myself. Why couldn't I be a better son?

Rosalie was by my side in an instant, taking my head in hers and staring at me with eyes full of understanding. "Stop thinking so lowly of yourself Emmett," she spoke in a firm voice. "You are a wonderful son and you know Mom and Dad love you. And stop trying to compare yourself to Dad. You are each your own person and he'd never expect you to act like anyone other than yourself," she chided gently.

I heaved a sigh as I brought her in for a hug. Jeez, how did this woman know me so well? I glanced up to see each of my siblings staring at me with the same understanding, and I couldn't help but snort. I guess I'm an easy guy to read, I thought with some amusement. I was really touched by their concern and although I found it pretty annoying I was also touched by how they knew me so well.

"We'll wait out here for Mom to return or Dad to wake up," Alice declared as she leaned into Jasper's embrace. Nobody mentioned anything, but just as easily as they read me I was able to read them; and what I gleaned was that they had been thinking the same things I had. They too had been caught unawares by how tired and vulnerable our Pops had looked, and just like me they didn't like it.

There was an increased air of determination around us as we settled ourselves down. Our parents needed us and we _would not_ let them down.

**Carlisle's POV:**

_Blackness surrounded me, but it was not oppressive or frightening. It was calming, but I could feel something trying to break though. I could feel something trying to shatter through the tranquility. Before anything could happen though beautiful music flooded my ears and the calmness prevailed, the comforting blackness strengthening. I welcomed the calm and peacefulness, relishing in the absence of thought. I remained this way for a while, even after the music suddenly stopped. Slowly though, so slowly I failed to notice at first, the blackness began to crack. The calmness began to recede. I desperately grabbed on to the last tendrils of serenity but the comforting silence was quickly replaced with voices, voices that were angry, hurt, and scared._

_ "I am innocent! I am innocent!"_

_ "Help me Carlisle! Please!"_

_ "You disgust me, you pathetic, weak child!"_

_ "Please Father, I am sorry! Please do not punish me!"_

_ "You will never amount to anything!"_

_ "Please forgive me Father!"_

_ "You should never have been born you wretched ingrate!"_

_ "I am so sorry Father, so, so sorry!"_

_ "Save me Carlisle, please save me!"_

_ "Kill her Carlisle."_

_ "No, I cannot. I will not!"_

_ "Kill her Carlisle!"_

_"NO!"_

_ The blackness immediately shattered and I found myself stumbling through the woods with a loaded pistol in my hand. I was bloodied and in incredible pain, but there was a fire in my eyes and a heavy darkness in my heart. _

_ This was it, I thought. I was finally going to end this. He would not hurt me or anyone else ever again._

_ I gripped my aching ribs, pausing for several moments to catch my breath. The rain came down harder than ever and it only increased the agony I was in. I normally found rain to be peaceful and soothing, but not today. Today it only impeded me, making the ground muddy and slippery. It was hard to walk and I was freezing. Not to mention the heavy droplets that felt like jagged rocks on my shredded back._

_ I was determined though and nothing was going to stop me. Samuel Cullen had hurt me for the last time. _

_ I panted as I once more made my way through the woods. His house (I had long since stopped considering it my home) was on the outskirts of the city, and I was finally able to see it. It was early morning, but due to the rain Father had lit a lantern in the home since it was still so dark outside._

_ My heart beat rapidly as I tightened my hold on the pistol._

_ Do not be a coward I chided myself. You must go through with this. You must kill him!_

_ I was panting heavily now, my body nearly spent. I felt like collapsing, but knew that if I fell I would be unable to get myself up again. Keep moving. One step in front of the other. _

_ I looked up and found myself in front of the house. A glance through the window revealed Samuel sitting at the table with a steaming cup of tea in his hands. His back was to me. This was all too perfect. I could pull the trigger now and he would not even realize who it was that had shot him._

_ No, not that way though. Look him in the eyes as it happens. Let him know it was you. Look him in the eyes and make him pay for all that he has done. Make him pay!_

_ Fury and overwhelming despair coursed through me. I had to do this, I told myself. I just had to. I could not live this way anymore. I could not live in fear, and I was so tired of the lies. I was so tired of the beatings, the dirty looks, the cruel words. I was so tired of all the madness. _

_ Samuel Cullen I was convinced was the true monster, not those he hunted. They may be thieves, they may even be murderers, but they were not worse than the man sitting in that house. He was a man who hid behind God to fulfill his sadistic need for death. He deserved to die. He needed to die, and I had to be the one to do it. No one else saw what I saw. No one else knew what I knew. It had to be me._

_ I leaned heavily against the wooden post of the front porch, my vision going blurry momentarily. I just wanted to pass out. I just wanted to sleep and forget everything. I did not want to feel or think anymore._

_ Be strong, I scolded harshly. Be courageous. Now is not the time for weakness!_

_ My heart beat at a near frantic pace now. It beat so loudly I was surprised Samuel could not hear it. My legs trembled and I tried to force myself to walk inside, but I was suddenly unable to manage a single step. Fear gripped me and a wave of dizziness nearly knocked me off my feet._

_ I gritted my teeth as I took in several slow, deep breaths. Now is not the time for this Carlisle Cullen! Get it together. Remember why you are doing this. That man is a murderer!_

_ I took several more deep breaths and forcefully swallowed back any fear. Determination once more flowed through me, but as I tried to take a step my legs nearly collapsed from under me. Gripping on to the wooden post as tightly as possible I steadied myself as best as possible. My body was spent. It was on fire and I had no energy left to even move. How was I to even get in the door to shoot him, I thought grimly with a sardonic smile._

_ Shoot him through the window, a voice whispered encouragingly. He is sitting just there. You cannot possibly miss. _

_ I maneuvered myself on shaky legs so that I was standing to the side of the window. Leaning on the house now I peeked inside, and sure enough there my father still sat, obviously not bothered by the prospect of his son freezing to death out in the cold rain. Hurt tore through me, but just as quickly I allowed it to be overcome with anger. _

_ Feed off the anger and use it to your advantage. He is sitting right there. Just kill him. It will be so easy. Just do it. Do it! DO IT!_

_ And like that, without another thought, without a moment of hesitation I moved myself in front of the window, raised the pistol, and pulled the trigger._

_ Click! _

_ What the hell?!_

_ I jerked back in surprise, nearly tripping over myself before staring at the pistol in my hand. I had pulled the trigger but nothing had happened. _

_ My heart started to hammer once again and the haziness in my mind began to lift. The shock of what had just happened had rid me of whatever self-righteous anger I had and reality quickly took its place. My throat felt tight as my stomach curled in on itself. What had I just tried to do? _

_ Feeling suddenly as though the world was closing in on me I somehow found the necessary energy to turn around and run. I had no destination in mind as all I wanted was to get as far away from this place as possible. I ran hard and I ran fast. My legs burned. My ribs burned. My back burned. I slipped, tripped, and fell a multitude of times, but it was not until I fell and could no longer find the strength to lift myself that I finally stopped._

_ Lying on my hands and knees I did the best I could to control my rapid heartbeat and short breaths, but if anything I felt like my breaths were becoming shorter and shorter. Why? Why did I do that? What right did I have to play God? I had almost killed my own father! What the hell had I been thinking? What if the gun had actually gone off?!_

_ Panic seized me at this moment and breathing became even harder. Nausea gripped me and I stubbornly held it at bay as I fought to catch my breath. I was gasping, choking and crying. I could not breathe. What had I been thinking? How could I?_

"Get him to breathe, he's panicking!" a voice yelled in the distant.

_ Breathe? I was trying, but it wasn't working. My nails dug into the soft earth, my lungs burning with the need for air. Black spots danced in front of my eyes. _

"Come on, breathe with me! Breathe with me! He's not listening!" another voice yelled in a panic.

_I tried to kill him, I wanted to scream. I almost killed my own father!_

_ Oh God, please forgive me, I begged silently. Please, please forgive me!_

"God dammit Pops, listen to me!" the same voice yelled in near desperation.

_Pops? What kind of a name was that? Who was that?_

"Please Dad, come back to us!" a female voice sobbed. "You're alright. You're safe!"

_Dad? She called me Dad, I thought in amazement._

"Breathe Dad!"

"You can do it Dad!"

"Come back to us, please!"

"Breath with me Pops. In and out. In and out."

_I mechanically followed suit, my mind reeling as I suddenly realized what was happening…_

My eyes snapped wide open, my body freezing as I tried to block what had just occurred while at the same time assessing what was happening right now. Slowly beginning to take a few steady breaths I lifted my eyes up and saw four sets of panic-stricken eyes staring right back. I felt a set of arms wrapped around me and my back was pressed up against someone's chest, Emmett's chest.

What were they doing here? When did they get here? What did they just see? What must they be thinking? Did I scare them? Did I hurt any of them?

I felt I should say something, anything, but my mind was completely frozen. I was surprised, but gratified to note that I had unconsciously erected my mental barrier, which meant Edward had not viewed the memory—don't think about it!

My children continued to stare at me, their eyes now revealing wariness along with deep concern. I swallowed thickly, suddenly feeling extremely exposed and uncomfortable. What had they witnessed? What did they think? What had I done?

I shuddered involuntarily, my breathing picking up in tempo once more. I suddenly felt trapped and I desperately wanted out. I didn't like the feel of arms restraining me, and these four walls were by far too restrictive. I wanted out, and I wanted out right now. Where was Esme? Why was she not here? I thought frantically. Why did she leave me?

"Let me go," I gasped out in a hoarse voice. Emmett's arms immediately released me and I flashed over to the window as quickly as I could, accidentally shattering the glass in my haste to open it. I gripped the broken windowsill tightly as I resisted the urge to jump out and run from all of this. Deciding instead to work on regaining some semblance of control, I took in several deep breaths, holding them in for several seconds before exhaling. At the same time I also hummed my lullaby over and over again. I debated asking Jasper for help, but decided against that because I wanted to do this on my own. I had to prove to myself that I could do this alone.

Time passed and I failed to attain any calmness. My mind kept flashing towards Sarah, how I had killed her, and how I had tried to kill my own father. It was a mere fluke, wet gun powder in fact that had saved the man's life. What had I been thinking? How could I have murdered a man in cold blood? Was I as bad as him?

My breathing rate continued to increase, but I was not panicking. Tears welled up into my eyes, and although I tried my damndest to fight them, I failed. As all my feelings overwhelmed me the tears began to fall. I closed my eyes shaking my head in a futile attempt to rid myself of these damned tears, but to no avail.

Oh God, what had I done? I cannot take this anymore. Please, I need help. Please, please, please!

And with that my shoulders began to shake with suppressed sobs. My knees slowly bent and I sank down to the floor, my head and hands resting on the windowsill. I wanted Esme, I thought desperately. Why wasn't she here? Where had she gone? I needed her so badly!

I flinched, giving a gasp of surprise when I felt a tiny hand pull my shoulder. Whirling around, I saw Alice staring at me with tear stained cheeks.

"Oh Daddy," she cried before wrapping her arms around me. "It'll be okay," she said, "you'll see." I only began to cry harder, my grip tightening before I was once more startled by not one, but four more sets of arms trying to wrap around me. My kids all huddled near, each one attempting to be in contact with me in an attempt to offer me all the comfort they could.

"We love you Dad," Edward stated, his voice choked up.

"Yeah Papa, we love ya, and ya ain't gotta be afraid of cryin' in front of us," Jasper spoke up next.

"It's not a weakness to cry," Emmett added wisely, "so let it all out."

"We've got you," Alice said.

"And we're not going anywhere," Rosalie declared firmly.

Their words touched me more than they would ever realize, and like with Esme I finally stopped fighting and just decided to let go. Dropping the last bit of control, I began to sob, clinging onto my five children as though they were a lifeline.

True to their words, they never let go. They stayed with me, tightening their grips and closing in the harder and longer I cried. They whispered soothing, loving words, and I could have sworn I heard one or two of them singing my lullaby.

My children still loved me, I told myself. They still loved me; and although I knew I still had a lot to come terms with, things finally started to look up for me. Hope shined brightly.

**A/N: **So...what'd you think? I actually really liked this chapter. I love seeing the siblings bond together, and I really love how they come to dear daddy's rescue! Let me know your thoughts by PLEASE REVIEWING!


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Carlisle or any of the other fabulous Twilight characters.

**Warning:** This chapter contains references to _**disciplinary spanking**_ so if this offends you then _**don't read or flame**_!

**Chapter 15: Share**

**Carlisle's POV:**

My tears had finally stopped, and I just stayed still, enjoying the feel of my children's various embraces. Due to Jasper's influence we all felt the love we had for each other, and it was incredibly soothing.

I finally released my hold on Alice, Rosalie and Edward and made to stand up. Jasper and Emmett released their holds before they all backed away, giving me space. Once standing I rubbed at my face with both hands, ridding myself of any stray tears. Running a hand through my hair I did the best I could to smooth it back before looking down at myself in slight embarrassment. Hmm, well it could have been worse I thought in dry humor as I eyed my sweat pants, the only article of clothing I was wearing.

Glancing up at the kids I guiltily noted all of them wiping at their faces. They had been crying because of me, I realized.

"Are you all alright?" I questioned concernedly, and five pairs of eyes immediately zeroed in on me, the emotions varying from disbelief to amusement.

"Uh, after what just happened, are you really asking _us_ if we're doing alright?" Edward questioned with a raised eyebrow.

I blinked, a somewhat sheepish smile appearing on my face as I nodded my head. "Sure seems like it," I replied casually as I rubbed the back of my neck.

Snorts and soft chuckles were given all around, the atmosphere lightening rapidly. I let out a breath I hadn't known I'd been holding. I had not realized how tense things had seemed until now.

"Well we're doing just fine Papa, how 'bout yerself?" my empath asked with a knowing smirk.

I rolled my eyes as he knew full well how I was feeling. I was about to answer 'fine', when I decided that now was not the time for evasions. "I've definitely been better," I answered, my smile turning wry. Understanding nods were given before I spoke once more.

"Where is Esme?" I asked, looking around the room as though expecting her to pop out from behind the broken dresser.

"Mom went hunting," Edward answered, and I stared at his serious face before giving a nod of understanding. I did not like the thought of Esme being out in the woods alone, not because I felt she couldn't take care of herself but because I knew she was probably in rough shape. I could only imagine the amount of stress I had put her through. I had not exactly made things easy for my wife. I gave a slight shake of my head at these depressing thoughts, telling myself that Esme was just fine before turning grateful eyes towards my kids.

"Thank you," I told them all, my tone brimming with gratitude. "I no doubt made you all very uncomfortable with my, um, display, and I just want to thank you for your kindness and comfort. It was much appreciated."

"You're welcome," Alice chirped with a bright smile that warmed my heart while Rosalie in a somewhat offhanded manner, "You would have done the same for us."

I stared at Rosalie, unable to hide my surprise. I knew she had forgiven me, but I had expected her to be angry with me. I had expected her to act as she had in our first years together, hateful and full of spite.

Rosalie it seemed caught my look for she rolled her eyes before pinning me with a hard stare. She opened her mouth, and from the look in her eyes I had no doubt she was about to lay into me, but she ended up just slowly closing her mouth before letting out a sigh. Emmett placed a hand on her shoulder and she turned to give him a smile, leaving me absolutely confused as to what had just happened.

I watched as those two had a silent conversation, Rosalie looking earnest while Emmett looked reluctant. Alice moved in at this point, closely followed by Edward and Jasper, and they all turned to Emmett, giving him pointed looks. This staring contest went on for several minutes until eventually Emmett gave a huff before giving a defeated nod. His brothers clapped him on the shoulder, Alice gripping his hand as Rosalie kissed his cheek. What in the world? I thought, feeling rather confounded yet fascinated by their silent interactions.

As one they all then turned towards me, and I unconsciously found myself standing up straighter. Their eyes were probing, examining me. For what I did not know, but they apparently found what they were looking for because Rose stepped forward with crossed arms and a serious expression.

"You're a mess Dad," she stated bluntly, and I raised an eyebrow. "I want so badly to yell at you, but right now you look so much like a kicked puppy that I'd probably feel horrible about it." I blinked in surprise at her words, but before I could form a coherent thought she continued speaking. "And I shouldn't feel guilty for yelling at you because of what you did. I have all the right in the world to be angry and no one can tell me otherwise," she asserted, jutting her chin out and glaring at everyone around her as though just daring them to disagree with her. I was not quite sure how to respond—wait, did she just tell me I looked like a kicked puppy?! I thought in bewilderment.

"You are welcome to say whatever you want to me Rosalie," I spoke encouragingly but she just shook her head.

"No," she countered firmly. "You are not yourself."

"I am fine," I retorted automatically, bristling slightly at the disbelieving snorts from her and the rest of my children.

"Ahm sorry ta say this Papa, but from an empath's point o' view, yer about as far from fine as possible," Jasper remarked with a bit of amusement. I felt a spike of anger in me, but I quickly squashed it down, taking a deep breath as I stared at my soldier. His amusement was gone, his face a mask of concern as he no doubt felt my anger. He gazed at me with questioning eyes, and I gave a jerky nod, gratefully accepting the wave of calm he shot through me. I ran a hand through my hair, pinching the bridge of my nose as I turned away from my kids.

"I don't like this," Rosalie mumbled quietly. "He's still not in control." A stab of hurt hit me at her words, yet I did not allow it to show. I would prove her wrong. I was very much in control.

"It will be fine," Alice asserted with confidence, "I've seen it."

"Seen what?" I questioned wearily before turning eyes towards my eldest daughter. "I assure you Rose that while my control right now is not perfect, I will not hurt any of you." Rosalie stared me straight in the eyes for several moments, no doubt trying to gauge my sincerity before giving me a small nod. She did not apologize for her harsh words, but I did not expect her to. She had all the right in the world to be wary of me. I turned my gaze back towards Alice at this point, waiting for her to answer my question, but before she could Emmett spoke up.

"Pops," he called out quietly, too quietly for my liking, "Can we talk?" My eyes snapped towards his, and I took in how nervous and uncertain he looked. He looked so unlike himself it actually pained me to see him. Guilt once more tried to rear its ugly head but I shoved it away as I gave my bear a nod.

"Of course Emmett," I responded, and he let out a breath before nodding his head and shoving his hands in his pockets. He glanced at Rose and his siblings at this point before gesturing his head towards the door as he said, "You guys should go. Pops and I need to talk alone." Understanding nods were given before each of my children began to silently file out of the room, but not before giving me a reassuring look or squeeze of the hand. Huh, why did I suddenly feel as though I were in trouble?

I watched as Emmett wrapped his big arms around Rose, whispering quiet words to her before gently pushing her towards the door. She gave her mate a loving look as she said, "We won't be far," before turning towards me. She appeared to be conflicted as though torn between being furious with me and with being concerned. "Don't hurt him," she told me before quickly making her exit. I grimaced at her request, wanting so much to repair the damage I had done to my relationship with her; however, I knew in order to do that I would first have to repair my relationship with Emmett.

I listened intently as the others ran into the woods. Once I could no longer hear them I turned back towards Emmett, once more disheartened by the quiet, brooding look he sported. This was not my Emmett, I thought sadly. I had to fix this.

"I am so sorry Emmett," I began remorsefully. "I know that words alone cannot fix the hurt I have caused you, but I say it all the same."

Emmett stared at me with serious eyes full of hurt, confusion, and anger as he spoke. "You were so angry with me. I've never seen you like that," he confessed, "and I couldn't understand what I'd done to deserve that anger. I-I told you I was scared yet you only sneered at me. I pleaded—I begged for you to let me speak and to not whip me but you only stared at me with cold, uncaring eyes. You terrified me," he nearly whispered with a face full of shame. "When I pushed you away I thought for sure you were going to hit me or worse. I, well, I can't believe you slapped me!" he burst out, his tone turning outraged and uncomprehending. "What the hell happened Pops?! What did I do to deserve that? What"—

"No!" I burst out, rushing forward towards my dejected boy. My heart broke at the way he flinched away from me, so I stopped a foot away from him as I stated, "You did absolutely _nothing_ to deserve what I did to you Emmett! Nothing will ever warrant my striking you or punishing you out of anger."

"But if I hadn't gotten in trouble at school," he began to protest, but I just gave a firm shake of my head, cutting him off, but he continued to speak anyway. "You can't tell me you weren't planning on tanning my hide for what I'd done Pops." I let out a sigh.

"You are correct," I admitted slowly, "your punishment was to be a spanking, but the punishment I gave you was abuse. It never should have happened. I let my anger take control, and that was unforgivable." Emmett looked uncertain, and I could still see the guilt in his eyes. He truly felt he was at fault?

"Emmett," I stated strongly, slowly reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder. I was heartened when he did not flinch away, so I gripped his shoulder comfortingly as I told him, "I am the one at fault. You misbehaved, but I handled your punishment in the worst possible manner. I abused my position and hurt you terribly. I was wrong, not you. Please son, do not blame yourself when it was I who wronged you."

Emmett swallowed, his eyes full of emotion, emotion that he normally would never let me see. My boys were the same as me. They did not like to appear weak, and they felt these emotions showed them to be so. I constantly told them they had no reason to be ashamed of their emotions, but they were stubborn. Stubborn like me, I realized. If I truly wanted them to believe me when I told them not to be ashamed to open up to me, then I had to lead by example.

I took in a deep breath to calm myself before moving my hand from Emmett's shoulder to the back of his neck. "When I realized what I had done to you Em I wanted to die," I confessed brokenly. "I ran away because I was unable to stand what I had done, unable to live with myself. When Esme found me I expected her to hate me. I expected her to rip me to shreds, and I would have accepted her anger all too happily." My voice cracked as I easily recalled these feelings. Emmett stared at me with wide eyes and I squeezed his neck comfortingly.

"I could not handle the guilt of what I had done. It was tearing me apart, and I am afraid I put your mother in quite the position." I gave a nervous swallow at this point, dropping my hand from my boy's neck and rubbing it over my face. "Your mother, well, she—because I could not forgive myself…Esme"—

"Mama tanned your hide," Emmett blurted out, and I sucked in a breath as I gave him a startled look. How did he know that?

"Mom told us when we got here," he explained. "She didn't give us any details if that's what you're worried about, but uh, well, when we were wandering through the house (and your house is a mess by the way Pops, what the heck were you and Mom doing?) we sort of found your belt lying on the couch in the living room."

I stiffened, feeling overwhelmed by the fact that the kids already knew what happened, and that they knew it was with the belt.

Stop feeling embarrassed, I scolded myself harshly. Man up. You do not allow the children to feel shamed for having been punished so stop being a hypocrite!

"Um, did Mama really belt you Pops?" Emmett questioned hesitantly and I gave an internal groan as I nodded my head. He more than anyone else needed to know this. He deserved to know this. "Yes Em," I answered honestly, "Esme chastised me with my own belt."

"The same belt you used on me?" Esme asked with a wide eyed look, and I nodded my head.

"Damn," Emmett muttered, giving a low whistle, a slight smile forming on his face. "I can't believe this. I can't believe _Mama_ actually gave _you_ a smack down. This is so damn unreal!" he exclaimed.

I just rolled my eyes before crossing my arms self consciously. "Well believe it," I grumbled, not quite feeling the amusement he did.

"Wow, are you sore?" he then asked, and I gave him a pointed look that basically said, 'what do you think?'

"Just checking," he mumbled with an unapologetic shrug of his shoulders. "I sure as hell am still sore, so I would hate to think you got off easier than me," he joked giving me a light punch on the shoulder. I just huffed as I rolled my eyes.

"Wow, this is just so freakin unreal Pops. That belt stings like hell, don't it?" he muttered with a grimace, and I just nodded my head in complete agreement. Emmett just continued to stare at me, amazement clear as day on his face. Well, it could be worse I told myself. He could be scorning me or making fun of me.

I noted right away when my son's face turned calculating. He stared at me with a thoughtful look before circling around me. I followed his movements, suddenly wary. What was he planning? The thought had barely entered my mind when that wretched, cruel son of mine thought it would be a brlliant idea to land a good hard smack to my very tender, unsuspecting backside.

_Bloody freakin hell!_ I thought as I let out a strangled yelp that turned into growl as I glared at my boy all the while trying to rub out the reignited sting in my poor posterior.

**Emmett's POV:**

My eyes widened in disbelief and slight horror as I watched my dad let out a yelp that then turned into an angry growl as he glared at me. He furiously rubbed his backside, and I swear the guy was nearly hopping from foot to foot. Holy shit.

"What the bloody hell Emmett?!" Pops exclaimed, giving me a vicious glare.

"Man oh man Pops, I am so freakin' sorry!" I told him after I came out of my shock. "I honestly didn't—I mean I believed you when you said Ma belted you, but I just didn't think—shit Pops, are you alright?" He had stopped rubbing his backside, but his face could not hide the pain he was in.

"You did not believe she had punished me hard enough?" Pops nearly bellowed, shooting me a disbelieving look.

"Well, no," I replied in all honesty. "This is Mom we're talking about, she's a softy so I just didn't think she had it in her, especially with you…"

"Well think again bear boy," he snapped irritably, "your soft mama is a force to be reckoned with. She was furious with me for having hurt you so terribly and she let me know it so I would appreciate it greatly if you would refrain from doing that again."

"Sure thing Pops. Jeez, I'm so sorry, d'ya need me to get you anything? A bag of ice?" I asked him in concern, but he just gave a snort as he shook his head. I continued to gaze at him in concern. It sure looked like he ended up worse off than I had. A slight fear entered me at this point as I pondered the thought of Mom ever punishing me.

"Calm yourself Em," my father spoke, a knowing look in his eyes. "Your mother would never punish any of you with the intensity she did me, I promise you."

"Oh," I sighed, feeling a bit of relief. Pops just shot me an amused look, giving a light chuckle at my reaction.

"So, I uh take it neither one of us is gonna be sitting comfortably for the foreseeable future, huh Pops?" I pressed with a slight grin, and he gave a snort before returning the grin.

"Guess not," he responded, rubbing the back of his head with some embarrassment. I gave a low chuckle, still taken aback by the fact that my dear sweet mama had taken tough 'ol pops to task. In a weird way I was kind of touched that Mom would go to such lengths for me. I knew how much she fought Pops any time he wanted to give any of us kids a tanning, and I remembered how upset she had been after spanking Jasper that one time and then my Rosie. So, for her to still go through with Pops punishment was pretty amazing, especially considering he was her mate. Not to mention the severity of the punishment. I had no idea Mom had it in her. I'd have to watch myself around her from now on.

In another weird way I was also touched by how bent out of shape Pops became after what he did to me. It kind of shocked me how upset he got. I mean, I knew he'd feel guilty, but not the kind of guilt he told me about. Pops actually wanted to die. He wanted Mom to rip him apart. And he took a hard thrashin' for me. Wow, I just couldn't believe it.

"Hey Pops, you know you really didn't have to go through with that punishment for me to forgive you right?" I informed him. "You've had it since Mom left home."

Pop stared at me, his eyes just shining with the love he felt for me, and while a part of me was embarrassed by all that emotion, a larger part of me basked in it.

"Yes I did," he replied. "I fully deserved it for having hurt you, and I needed it so that I could begin to forgive myself. Like you I too have rules to follow," he explained. "Not the same rules as you exactly, but when it comes to how we treat each other, I too am not allowed to harm any of you out of anger. I am your father and leader and I must lead by example. If I were to have just come home and expected to be forgiven, what would you have thought?"

I frowned lightly as I contemplated his question. It was true I had forgiven him already, but I couldn't deny that I probably would have resented him a bit if he'd just come on home expecting everything to be okay. Our relationship would have no doubt become strained. I didn't like to hold onto things but I couldn't deny that there would have been trust issues. I told Pops my thoughts and he nodded his head in understanding.

"Yes, that is what I thought," he remarked grimly.

"I guess knowing how guilty you felt or do feel, and knowing how bad a whipping Mom gave you, well…," I rubbed the back of my neck before shrugging slightly. "Like I said, I'd already forgiven you, but somehow I feel better. I don't know how to explain it. I feel like we can move past this." I gave Carlisle an awkward smile, not sure if he understood what I was trying to say, but his kind smile showed that he had. Of course he did. My dad was smart like that.

"I am glad that my experience will help heal the damage that I have done to our relationship," he spoke genuinely. "You have no idea how much you mean to me, my son."

"Aww jeez Pops," I sighed, scuffing my shoe on the floor. I was really touched by his words. "You don't have to worry so much," I assured him. "There is no damage to our relationship. We're totally cool. You're still my crazy old man, and I'm still your lovable, charming, good-looking son."

He laughed outright at my words, and I smiled glad to see a bit of light in his eyes again. Carlisle was far from alright. Anyone with eyes could see that. When Jasper had picked up Pop's panicked emotions we had all rushed into his room intent to see what was wrong. We were stunned when we saw him curled up, his face scrunched up as though he were in pain. We were frozen, unsure of what to do when he suddenly began hyperventilating. It seemed as though he was having trouble breathing, which seeing as we're vampires shouldn't have been a problem as we don't need oxygen. Seconds passed by and the more I watched the more I began to realize what was happening. Pops had been having a panic attack.

In my human life I had a brother named Cade who was two years younger than me. He suffered from panic attacks, so I had learned early on how to spot them, and how to help him settle down. So, without further thought I rushed onto the bed, sat with my back to the headboard, and pulled Pops upright so that his back was against by chest. He put up a bit of a fight so I wrapped my arms around his chest, pinning his arms to the side all the while pleading with him to relax and to take deep breaths with me.

Rose and my siblings snapped out of their daze at this point and joined me, whispering comforting and encouraging words to our father as he regained control of himself.

"He must have lost himself in a memory," Edward remarked in great concern as he gripped Pop's hand. I took in that little tidbit of information and couldn't help but become afraid of what could have put my fearless father into this state. What memory could possibly have been horrible enough to induce a panic attack?

Eventually Pops managed to calm down. When he asked me to release him I felt little relief as his tone was strained. I watched as he opened the window and attempted to bring himself under control. It obviously didn't work because he began breathing heavily once more before finally just collapsing to his knees. I had no idea what to think as I watched my hero, my dad head for a nervous breakdown. It was Alice who was the first to react, and she did so by pulling our father in for a hug. Pops finally broke down at this point. He sobbed, and I mean heart wrenching sobs that just tore through all our hearts. I myself wanted to start crying at just witnessing the state he was in. Instead, I settled for wrapping my own arm around him, just as Rose and my siblings did. We held each other for who knows how long until slowly Pops began to calm down.

"What's wrong Emmett?" my father suddenly asked, breaking me out of my reverie. I blinked before gazing at his concerned face.

"Nuthin'," I replied automatically, and he frowned as he gave me a doubtful look.

"You look worried," he spoke, his dark eyes silently pleading with me to open up.

I sighed before saying, "It's just—I mean—Look Pops, I'm really worried about you. You look like you've been to hell and back, and, well, I can't help but feel that I'm to blame." Pops immediately opened his mouth to protest but I gave an emphatic shake of my head to silence him before telling him, "I know you say that you are the only one to blame, and yeah, okay you do bear some blame, but so do I. You didn't know this, but, uh…ever since Ma left the others and I have been purposefully trying to tick you off. Most our arguments were fake, and breaking your car wasn't quite an accident..." I gazed at Carlisle with nervous eyes, not at all liking how his expression had closed off. His face was unreadable. "Just so you know I take full responsibility for this stupid idea since it was mine to begin with," I decided to tack on, not wanting Rose or my siblings to go down with me.

Pops remained silent for nearly a minute before he asked in quiet disbelief, "You were purposefully trying to get me to lose control?" He stared at me with wide, uncomprehending eyes that showed just the barest hint of hurt, and I felt like absolute scum as I nodded my head.

"_Why_?" he asked, his tone slightly incredulous and filling with hurt, which in turn just made me feel worse. I think it would've been better if he yelled. This quiet look of disappointment and hurt just pierced through me like a shard of glass…if that glass happened to be on fire that is…

"I'm so sorry Pops," I answered with a desperate look. "It was stupid, and I don't know why we did it. We were just messin' with you and we never really thought we'd succeed."

Pop continued to stare at me in disbelief as he ran a hand through his hair. "How could you not—Did none of you realize the state I was in? Did none of you notice how short of temper I was? Why would—how could you have…" He trailed off, closing his eyes tightly and letting out a sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Upon opening his eyes he stared at me with a sorrowful look.

"We did notice, but we didn't think anything of it," I tried to explain. "We were being spoiled brats. We were happy that we were getting to you. But I swear to you that none of us thought you'd ever actually lose your temper. We knew we'd probably end up with roasted butts if you caught on to us or if we pushed you too far, but that was all part of the thrill." I groaned, rubbing my hands through my own hair as I noted how bad this sounded. This really had been the dumbest idea I'd ever come up with.

My dad just stared at me with sad eyes and slumped shoulders. He looked so damned exhausted, and his eyes couldn't hide the hurt he felt at my admission. I felt tears well up in my eyes at seeing this.

"Papa please, I know it was stupid, and I'm so, so sorry. Please, _please_ forgive me," I practically begged as I looked at him with pleading eyes.

"Oh Emmett," he sighed before wrapping his arms around me. I eagerly accepted the hug, wrapping my own arms tightly around him and burying my head in his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I mumbled over and over again pitifully. "I'm an idiot, stupid, and"—

"Hush now, you are nothing of the sort," Carlisle admonished softly as he rubbed the back of my head.

"But it was a stupid idea, and it was _my_ idea," I protested, but he just shushed me once more before forcing my head up so that I was looking straight at him. He placed his hands on either side of my face as he spoke in a gentle voice.

"It was a _very _stupid idea," he acknowledged with a serious look, "but that does not make _you_ stupid. You made a mistake, and if I heard you correctly it was a mistake your siblings and Rose made as well; so do not feel the need to take sole responsibility. Besides, it does not matter what you or any of you kids did, I should have handled myself better."

I nodded my head, only feeling slightly better. He hadn't really said he'd forgiven me. As though he understood why I still looked so down, Carlisle then said, "I forgive you my bear, so _please_ stop looking at me with those big, sad eyes."

I smiled, emitting a soft chuckle at his words. It was good to know he wasn't as immune to my puppy-dog look as he said he was. I'd have to remember that for another day.

"Do you really forgive me?" I asked in a small voice, making sure to give him the widest, most mournful eyes I could muster. He groaned out loud, giving me a light shove and pointed look to let me know I hadn't fooled him.

"Yes, I forgive you, you unruly child," he grumbled, giving me a smirk to show that he wasn't really upset with me.

I grinned widely, feeling lighter than I had in a while. My pops was slowly coming back to himself, and I was beyond relieved that he had forgiven me for being such an idiot.

Pops shook his head at me in amusement before turning serious. "Is there anything else you would like to get off your chest, son? Anything more you would like to discuss?" I observed him, noting with some surprise that he appeared to be a little nervous. I thought over his question and realized that there was something I wanted to know.

"Yeah actually," I answered a tad bit hesitantly. "What happened that got you so angry? You said I wasn't at fault, but then…," I trailed off with a shrug, feeling out of my depth.

He frowned, emitting a tired sigh as he ran a hand through his hair, giving it a slicked back look.

"It was a multitude of things," he attempted to explain, crossing his arms and looking down at the floor in mild disgruntlement.

"What kind of things?" I pressed when he remained silent too long. I wasn't a patient guy.

He looked up at me, his eyes swirling with emotions I couldn't quite describe.

"I would by lying," he eventually began, "if I said the antics of you and your siblings did not…ah, did not irritate me."

I looked down guiltily, not at all surprised by his admission.

"Yeah, we were kind of out of control," I admitted, looking over at him with a slight grin. Pops obviously did not share my amusement as he distastefully muttered, "Out of control." I lost my grin and just stared at him with eyes full of apology.

"You lot were neither the sole cause nor the main cause though," he continued. "I was very irresponsible in not having hunted recently. It had been a month and I knew I was thirsty but I failed to make time." I raised both my eyebrows in surprise. Well this didn't sound like Pops at all. The guy just oozed responsibility and I knew if any of us had pulled a stunt like that he'd have bit our heads off. No wonder he'd been having so much trouble with his temper. I couldn't believe he'd lasted a whole month!

"I was also having problems at work," he added. "One of my coworkers is an incompetent arse (my eyes widened at hearing Pops curse) who has delighted in tormenting me. Friday was the last straw when his arrogance led to the death of a young boy," he spat, his tone clearly expressing how much he hated this guy.

"What happened?" I decided to ask, and he informed me of Friday's events. Well, now I knew why Pops was so upset. He was always down when he lost a patient, especially if that patient was a child. Despite his claim that this coworker was the cause, I knew my dad well enough to know that he still blamed himself.

"It wasn't your fault Pops. You told Leigh what was wrong and he ignored you," I told him, but Pops just sighed as he looked towards the window.

"Maybe," he mumbled noncommittally, and I took a step towards him, giving him a firm shove at the shoulder. "Hey," I told him sternly, "stop beating yourself up. What happened _wasn't_ your fault Pops."

"I should have known better," Carlisle argued. "I knew Leigh was incompetent so I never should have trusted him"—

I interrupted Pops by giving him a rougher shove, causing him to stumble back a few steps. He narrowed his eyes at me but before he could begin to berate me I spoke up. "It. Was. Not. Your. Fault! Get that through your thick head Pops!" I retorted somewhat angrily. "That guy is a doctor, a stupid, incompetent doctor, but a doctor nonetheless. He allowed his arrogance to get in the way, which led to that boy dying. Nothing you did led to his death. You did everything you could to save him," I insisted. Pops frowned lightly at me before I opened my mouth to continue. "Look Pops, you got a heart of gold and your compassion knows no bounds. (That's part of what's so messed up about what happened on Friday) Anyway, I know you want so bad to save everyone, but you've got to accept that that isn't possible. You're not superman or God or whatever. You do the best you can and that's all that can be asked. Messed up stuff happens all the time and it sucks, yeah, but that's the way life rolls. You can't dwell on it and let it eat you up inside because forever is a real long time to be living with such guilt and regret."

I fell silent at this point, shoving my hands in my pockets and rolling back and forth on my feet as I waited for Carlisle to say something. The guy looked pretty stunned by what I'd said, but I wasn't sure if it was because of _what_ I said or because it was _me_ who said it. Finally after what seemed like forever his eyes softened and he gazed at me with pride and gratitude; and then before I knew it I was being pulled into a tight hug.

"Pops," I whined in embarrassment, but he ignored me as he stated with much emotion, "Thank you Emmett, your words mean a great deal to me. I love you so much."

I felt myself choke up a little at the sheer amount of love Pops felt for me. "I love you too Papa," I mumbled back as I returned his hug. We broke apart a few minutes afterwards, both offering the other a sheepish smile.

I wracked my mind for something to say at this point as I wanted to keep this conversation moving so we could end it as soon as possible. I wasn't one for heart to hearts or mushiness. It just wasn't my thing. I loved my Pops to death, but I'd rather express my feelings through a joke or a wrestling match than with hugs and kisses. I mean, okay, so I sometimes, and I do mean sometimes enjoyed the feel of my old man's arms around me, but I was a man, and men didn't get hugs from their dads. That was for boys, and I was no boy, no siree.

"So," I remarked in forced casualness, "me getting in trouble at school was the last straw?"

"Mmhmm," he responded with a grim nod. "I was in the middle of a heated argument with Leigh when I got the news," he recalled.

Damn, I thought. He must've been so embarrassed. "Sorry Pops," I told him and he nodded his head in understanding.

"I know buddy," he said.

"You shoulda heard what that guy was saying about Rose though," I stated, attempting to explain my actions.

Pops pursed his lips but said nothing.

"I was in PE and I overheard him complaining to his buddies about how he'd been rejected by Rose. Although that annoyed me I was more amused he even thought he had a chance with Rose. Anyways, he started saying all these horrid things about Rose, like how she was a bitch and a slut and how she was just asking for someone to teach her a lesson," I informed him, growing angry as the event once more played out in my head. "I really wanted to bash the bastard's head in, but I stopped myself Pops, I really did. I knew how you felt about us getting in fights with humans, so I didn't do anything. However, Sparks didn't stop there. I was trying to tune him out when I suddenly heard Sparks tell his friends that he was going to have his way with Rose. He said he was going to teach her to not be such a cocktease and-and…," I trailed off, gritting my teeth and clenching my fists tightly. "I-I lost it," I confessed before just falling silent.

I watched my dad, noticing how he was first surprised and then angered by what I had said. I saw the muscle in his cheek twitching as he was no doubt gritting his teeth. There was a fire in his darkening eyes, and I felt warmth spread through me. I knew how protective Pops was over us kids, especially his girls. This anger showed that someone was gonna pay.

"Thank you for telling me Emmett," he eventually stated, "I guarantee you I will be having words with your principal to assure this boy is properly punished and kept far away from _my_ girls." He took a few deep breaths and closed his eyes to calm himself down. When he opened them he gazed at me with tired, regretful eyes.

"I wish you would have told me this earlier," he sighed, running a hand though his hair.

"Would it have changed the outcome?" I questioned with genuine curiosity.

Pops grimaced lightly before letting out another heavy sigh. "I don't know son. I would like to think it would have, but honestly, I cannot say for sure."

Well then, I thought to myself, I'm glad I didn't tell him. That beating would have been that much harder to take if I'd told him this because it would've seemed to me like he didn't care about Rose.

"I am deeply sorry Emmett," he said, guilt clear in his tone.

"I know Papa, and I forgive you," I told him sincerely. Pops stared at me for several seconds with searching eyes before giving me a grateful smile.

"Now can you forgive me Pops?" I pressed somewhat nervously. "I know I shouldn't have lost my temper. I should've handled it better but"—

"It's okay, I forgive you," he interrupted with a kind, understanding smile. "You had every right to be angry and protective of Rose, especially knowing the circumstances behind her transformation. I honestly do not know how I would react if I heard someone threatening your mother or one of you kids."

I scoffed before saying, "Please Pops, you wouldn't have thrashed the guy. I know you well enough, and barring what happened Friday, you've got super control. Doesn't matter what people say, you'd never give them a beating. You'd probably find some cool, sneaky, underhanded way to get back at them, but you wouldn't get in a fight."

Pops laughed at my words, shrugging his shoulders as he grinned. "Maybe," he hedged.

I rolled my eyes at his stubbornness. "Knowing what you do now, would you still have given me a hiding?" I asked curiously.

"Yes," he answered promptly, and I raised my eyebrows in surprise. "Really? But you just said you might act like I had if you'd been in the same situation!"

Pops chuckled softly at my surprise. "I understand your feelings, and that boy had no right to say those things, but you should not have lost your temper. This human was no threat to Rose and there were other ways of dealing with this. You chose wrong. You could have killed the boy, and that would have endangered our entire family by the attention that would have brought. Besides, I know that no matter how angry you were at the boy's words, you would have felt guilty by having killed him."

"Doubtful," I grumbled, deciding to omit how I wished I'd gotten in a better hit before having been stopped.

Carlisle just gave me a knowing look that I ignored. That little punk deserved whatever I gave him and more, I thought stubbornly. No one threatened my Rosie and got away with it. Carlisle continued to pierce through me with his eyes and I fidgeted uncomfortably before looking away.

"Okay," I gasped out unhappily, "so maybe I would have felt a little bit guilty if I'd killed the prick, but I'm a little overprotective when it comes to Rosalie. I know she's tough as nails, but the thought of any guy hurting her in that way just boiled my venom. I saw red Pops, so in all reality you should be congratulating me on excellent control seeing as I only broke the douchebag's nose."

My dad sighed as his expression turned stern. "Emmett, I understand your feelings, truly I do. In truth, I am proud at the amount of control you showed, but I cannot help but feel if you can exert so much control when punching a human, can you not display that same level in terms of your temper? You, my son are so much better than that idiotic boy and I wish you would have shown me that.

His disappointment hit me hard and I lowered my eyes to the floor in shame. Pops was right, as always. I was stupid to have let Sparks get the best of me.

"Not every dispute need be settled with fists, especially with humans," Pops spoke. "You are _never_ under any circumstances to strike out at a human again, do you understand me?" he pressed and I nodded right away.

"Yes sir," I answered respectfully, my eyes still fixed to the floor. I only looked up when I felt a strong hand gripping my shoulder.

"I love how protective you are of Rosalie," Pops told me with obvious pride. "She is very lucky to have you for a mate, _but_ she does not need constant protection. As you yourself mentioned earlier, she is a capable young woman who can take care of herself. Physically humans are of no threat to her. Emotionally that is another matter. What you heard, if it came to pass could have caused serious problems so I am glad you did something about it; however, next time I want you to come to me. It may not be as satisfying, but it is the right thing, the mature thing to do."

"I understand," I muttered, mentally kicking myself for being such an idiot. I really needed to grow up some, I thought harshly. I was too childish and Rose deserved a man, not an immature boy.

"Stop that," I suddenly heard my father order strictly, and I blinked as I stared into his stern face.

"Stop what?" I asked dumbly.

"Stop thinking negatively of yourself," he responded knowingly.

"How did you know...," I began to ask before trailing off as I already knew the answer. Pops could read us kids like an open book. It was a miracle if we were ever able to keep a secret from him. It was kind of cool how he knew us so well, but also really annoying. It made it hard to get away with anything. The old man smirked at me as he no doubt knew what I was thinking even now. Wonderful, I thought sarcastically; and here I thought Edward was the mind reader of the family.

"In case you were wondering," Carlisle remarked, "there will be no further punishment from me on this matter. I had intended on grounding you, but in light of what occurred…, well, I believe nothing more is needed."

I nodded my head in rapid agreement. I so did not want any more punishment. That whipping had been bad enough.

I watched Pops, noting how his eyes dimmed, a melancholy look crossing his face. I figured he was once more beating himself up over what happened.

"I know I have already apologized, and I know you have already forgiven me," Pops spoke quietly, "but it will still take time before I can fully forgive myself for what I did to you."

"Pops," I sighed exasperatedly, "please stop beating yourself up about this. Everything is totally cool between us. I don't resent or hate your or anything. I understand what happened, and yeah it sucked big time but I forgive you; so does everybody else for that matter. I trust you when you say it won't happen again."

My dad looked back at me and I was blown away by the sudden vulnerability I saw in his eyes. "Thank you Emmett," he replied, "I hear what you are saying, but it will take time before _I_ can trust myself again. What if it were to happen again? I am far from perfect, and though I do the best I can to hide it, I too have a temper. I have an inner beast that is always fighting for control, and on Friday I lost that fight."

I listened intently, completely floored by not only what Pops was telling me but by how open he was being. Pops was always assuring us that we could talk to him about anything, but he rarely opened up to any of us. I mean, he was great at sharing how he felt towards us, but he never spoke about things that bothered him. I always figured he discussed these kinds of things with Esme, but the more I thought on that the more I realized how wrong that assumption was. Knowing this somehow made what was happening right now all the more special. I was touched by the amount of trust he was displaying in me, especially knowing the kind of guy I was. If he were to open up to anybody I'd always thought it'd be to Edward who he'd known the longest, or Jasper who was so much smarter than me (don't tell him I said that). I had to help him. I couldn't—I _wouldn't_ let him down.

"Pops," I addressed him gently, and his dark, nervous (nervous? really?) eyes became fixed on mine. "Do you remember when I came to talk to you about proposing to Rose? How nervous I was about being an awful husband? How I was afraid of hurting her, and how I didn't think I'd be good enough for her?" I asked him.

His brow furrowed, confusion clear on his face as he nodded his head.

"Well, do you remember what you told me?" I pressed, and his expression turned thoughtful. He eventually nodded his head, but I knew he realized what I was getting at when he shot me a loving smile. I smiled back, glad that he understood.

"You told me that I needed to trust myself, and when I told you I didn't, you said that I should because _you_ trusted me," I recalled. "That was enough for me. Your trust in me was all I needed to take that next step with Rose. Because _you_ had faith in me,_ I_ had faith in me. Now, I'm going to do for you what you did for me so listen up," I declared.

"_I trust you_," I told him slowly and deliberately as I looked him straight in the eyes. "I trust you with everything I have. I trust you with my life, with my emotional well being, and that of my wife, siblings and mother. I am extremely protective of the ones I love Pops, and if I ever felt that you were a danger to any of us, you can bet I wouldn't keep quiet about it. So, quit being so damn stubborn and open your ears to what I'm telling you. _I trust you so trust yourself_."

Pop's face was unreadable and his eyes full of so many varying emotions it was hard to tell what he was thinking. I hoped I'd been able to get through to him, but if I hadn't…

"And just so you know," I decided to add somewhat mischievously, "if I'm not convinced that you're done being a stubborn idiot, then I'm going to tell Mama on you."

Pops blinked in surprise at me, not quite understanding what I was getting at.

I smirked before wagging a finger at him. "I'm gonna tell her that you're still feeling guilty, which means a little more incentive is needed, if you catch my drift, haha!"

My dad's eyes widened, a hint of panic showing as he hastily shook his head back and forth while saying, "That will not be necessary Emmett, I guarantee it."

I laughed outright at his reaction, knowing full well how he felt seeing as he'd said similar words to me many a time before. It was just hilarious being able to turn the tables a bit on him. Kinda cool being able to bond over this. Weird, but cool.

Carlisle pouted slightly at my amusement, grumbling about disrespectful vampires, but I ignored him as I knew full well that he wasn't upset with me. Besides, the guy had to know to expect teasing from me. There was no way he could've expected me to just take the news of his punishment in silence. I'm Emmett for cripe's sake!

**Esme's POV:**

I sat on an old tree stump, leaning on my elbows with my head in my hands. I took in slow and steady breaths in an effort to keep myself under control when all I really wanted to do was scream and cry. I had been able to hold myself together earlier because Carlisle had needed me so badly, but now…now I had nothing to distract me. Carlisle was 'sleeping', the kids keeping a watchful eye on him and I was here alone. I wrapped my arms around myself, rubbing my hands up and down in an effort to provide myself some comfort.

I wanted Carlisle. I wanted my husband to hold me, to tell me he loved me and that everything was going to be just fine. It was a childish, weak desire, especially when I was the one who should be providing him comfort. Carlisle was certainly better than yesterday. He no longer had that broken, frenzied look about him. Most the anger and guilt were gone, but there was an overwhelming sadness in its place; and I didn't think it was only because of what happened with Emmett.

Something had happened. When I had found Carlisle in the woods yesterday after sending him for a hunt I knew right away that something had to have occurred. I had no idea what, but there was something terribly off about him. He looked, if possible even more fragile than he had earlier. Then when he had a flashback during his punishment…hmmm. A memory perhaps? Yes, that had to be it. Perhaps more than one. About his father no doubt, I mused, my mind whirling as connections were made.

It always goes back to his horrid father! That must be what happened. He had a memory out in the woods and then again during his punishment. But we had talked about his father today, yet he still had that dark look in his eyes. He still seemed as though he was carrying a heavy burden…which must mean he did not tell me the memory.

I sighed, rubbing my eyes. I felt exhausted. I was mentally and emotionally exhausted yet I had no time to rest. Carlisle was still far from alright and I would have to get to the bottom of this. I would not let him bottle these emotions up. He needed to learn to confide in me. He was just too damn prideful! Too damn stubborn!

I sighed once more, wondering if I should head back now. Carlisle needed me. What if he had woken? What if he did not want the children there? What if he reacted badly? What if he hurt one of them? I instantly banished that last thought, mentally slapping myself for even having allowed it to enter my mind.

He shoved you into the wall, a part of my mind whispered, and I grimaced.

I had startled him, I argued back. He did not mean it.

And what if he does that to one of your children? What if he harms one of them on accident?

Panic seized me at the thought and I immediately stood up, ready to race on back to the cottage.

Stop! I cried to myself. Stop panicking! Carlisle is upset and not himself, but he _will not_ harm any of the children, whether on purpose or accident. Calm down and think rationally.

I took in a deep breath before exhaling slowly. Tears welled up in my eyes as I chastised myself for my moment of doubt. Some wife I am, I thought harshly. How can I help him if I doubt him? What if he is never the same again? What if he never recovers from this?

I sat back down, once more burying my head in my hands as despair began to overwhelm me.

Did I make the right decision? Was punishment the right choice, especially after witnessing him have a flashback? What if I chose wrong? What if I only made things worse? What if he hated me? What if he never forgave me? What if—

"Of course he'll forgive you," a voice spoke gently, and I immediately jumped to my feet, whirling around to find my children a few feet away. It was Edward who had spoken, and his amber eyes were full of understanding and sadness, a look shared by his siblings.

"My babies," I spoke brokenly, tears beginning to spill as I held my arms wide open in invitation. In less than a second I had my arms wrapped filled with my beautiful children and I could not help but begin to cry.

Their arms tightened around me, and they whispered comforting, loving words.

"Everythin'll be alright Mama," Jasper spoke soothingly, no doubt using his gift to help me. I more than welcomed it.

"Dad could never hate you, and you've done nothing that needs forgiving," Edward whispered reassuringly.

The girls voiced their agreements and I soaked in all their love and comfort. As I was bringing myself under control I finally noticed the absence of my most boisterous child.

"Where is Emmett?" I asked concernedly, trying to discretely wipe away my tears as I broke away from the children.

"He and Dad are talking," Alice answered, and I stared at her not quite sure what to think. Was this a good thing? Should they be left alone? Did Emmett or Carlisle seem upset? I looked over at Rosalie at this point, knowing that if she had any doubts or concerns she would not have left her mate alone.

"Relax Mom," Jasper stated before Alice said, "Don't worry Mom, they're both doing just fine. They really needed this talk. It'll help them heal."

I nodded my head as a small weight lifted off my shoulders. One less thing to worry about, I thought. "You've seen this through a vision?" I questioned Alice, just wanting to make sure everything would be fine. She nodded her head affirmatively and I let out a soft sigh of relief. "Thank God," I quietly uttered.

"Are you alright Mom?" Rose then asked, and I automatically nodded my head, attempting to give her a reassuring smile. Their disbelieving looks told me I had not fooled them, so with a sad sigh I just gave a mute shake of my head as I sat back down on my stump. They settled themselves around me before Edward asked with some uncertainty, "Do you want to talk about it?"

I wanted to say no as I did not want to burden them with my worries, but I couldn't bring myself to. I needed to talk to someone, and as I gazed at the deeply concerned, serious expressions of my kids I knew I could talk to them. Just because I was their mother did not mean I could not confide in them as they did to me. We were a family and families helped each other. I knew, unlike my stubborn husband that I did not need to rely only on myself or him. I knew that although they could be immature and childish at times, our children could also be mature, compassionate, and understanding. They could be excellent listeners.

"I am feeling quite a lot of emotions," I began, and all their eyes immediately became fixed on me, Jasper giving a small grin. "I feel guilty for the punishment I gave your father. I feel as though I somehow failed at helping him. I am also deeply concerned for him. I know I helped him with his guilt, but there is something more that is bothering him, and I think it has to do with his father. I managed to get him to open up a little to me, but there is still so much he is keeping locked inside him," I explained, frustration evident in my voice. I noticed at this point the quick exchange of looks the kids made at my explanation and that garnered my curiosity.

"What is it?" I questioned.

There was another exchange of glances before Edward answered. "Well," he said reluctantly, "Dad kind of had a little panic attack right before waking."

My eyes widened in shock, worry instantly coursing through me as I impatiently waited for him to continue. What did he mean by panic attack?!

"He's okay," he added quickly, no doubt having noticed my expression. "But…," he trailed off, looking unsure of how to explain.

"What happened?" I spoke sharply, in no mood for his stalling.

"I was the one who noted the change in his emotions," Jasper decided to speak up. "We all ran inta yer room and found Papa curled up on the bed with his eyes scrunched up as though he were in pain or somethin'. Then he began to breathe rapidly before gaspin' as though he couldn't get enough air. It was crazy and we were all in such shock we weren't sure what to do," my son recounted, his eyes wide as though he were reliving the event.

"Emmett was the first one to jump into action," Rosalie continued, a bit of pride in her voice. "He jumped on the bed, situated Dad so his back was to Em's chest and he told Dad to calm down and take deep breaths. We all jumped on the bed at that point and began to talk soothingly to Dad, coaxing him out of whatever memory he was trapped in…It was horrible seeing him like that. He eventually snapped out of it but…" She trailed off, her eyes troubled, which only served to increase my worry. Another memory I thought in horror.

Alice picked up the tale next. "Daddy came to, looked at us and then jumped off the bed, running to the window and shoving it open. I thought he was going to jump out, but all he did was take deep breaths as though to calm himself. It didn't work. His breathing rate began to kick up again until he eventually sunk to the floor, his shoulders beginning to shake with suppressed sobs." Alice swallowed thickly at this point, tears shining in her eyes. "He-I…I went over to him and touched his shoulder; and when he whirled around I wrapped my arms around him…He began to openly sob then…" Alice trailed off as well, wiping at stray tears that fell down her face. Jasper pulled her close as I grabbed hold of her hand.

"We all comforted Dad at that point," Edward mentioned solemnly. "We held him and whispered comforting words until he calmed down. We then exchanged a few greetings before Emmett decided it was time for him and Dad to have a talk alone."

I gave a mute nod in understanding, my mind whirling as I processed this. My poor husband, I thought despairingly. What horrors did you witness to put you into such a taste? How horrible a memory, or memories did you experience? Was this memory the same as yesterdays? Would you share with us? Would you share with me? You could not keep this to yourself. You could not bottle this up or it would eat away at you. You must learn to confide in your family. You must learn to trust us as we trust you.

"How did he look when you left?" I eventually managed to ask.

"Not well," Rosalie answered somewhat hoarsely. "He looked kind of fragile, truth be told. It was sad. It made it hard to be angry with him."

"His emotions were a little erratic," Jasper added. "He was in control, but not like he usually is. I was feeling a lot of sadness and hurt along with a bit of guilt and anger."

I turned towards Edward next, hoping for some insight, but he just gave me a disappointed shake of his head. "I haven't been able to read him. His mind is shut tight, tighter than ever. I couldn't even get a read on him when he was 'sleeping'," he told me with a good amount of shock. I too felt surprise at this little tidbit. How had Carlisle managed to block Edward while 'sleeping'? Was that man _always_ on guard? Did he ever truly relax?

"I don't think he does," Edward murmured quietly in answer to my mental question. "Dad has never been one to appear vulnerable in front of anyone. Even when it was just the two of us and I tried to get him to talk when he looked bothered he would brush me off with a smile saying that all was well. And when I tried to get him to talk about his past, well, he always managed to change the subject."

"Papa was feeling vulnerable," Jasper informed us. "He was pretty shakin' up by whatever he saw while he was sleepin'. Dunno if it was a memory, but"—

"It was," I said with utmost certainty, gaining a raised eyebrow from my empath. "Yesterday when I was…chastising your father he had a flashback." The children exchanged knowing looks, and this time it was me raising an eyebrow at them.

"We had a feeling that might of happened," Rosalie said, her face a mask of sorrow. "We found the broken furniture in the living room along with the belt. We all figured that Dad wasn't the type to struggle during a punishment, and we knew his father was fond of using a strap on him, so we kind of just figured something like that may of happened," she explained. I could not help but marvel at their ability to put things together just from looking at the living room.

"Did he tell you what the flashback was about?" Alice questioned, but I just shook my head at her.

"No, he refused and I did not push the matter," I replied, feeling irritated with myself. "I felt it was more prudent to focus on the task at hand, and figured I could get him to discuss it later. I was an idiot! I should have forced him to talk. I knew something like this might happen. If he continues to bottle up all these horrible memories then they will just eat away at him."

"It isn't your fault Mom," Edward stated firmly. "Dad is stubborn. If he doesn't want to talk about something, then he won't."

"Edwards right Mama," Jasper voiced in agreement. "Ya tried. It was Papa who did not accept yer help. Besides. Like ya said, you had other issues to deal with at the time."

"Daddy does need to talk to someone though," Rosalie spoke. "It's obvious that whatever he's dealing with is too much for him. I don't know if he's been dealing with this memory on his own all along or if it's just something that was brought up because of what happened with Emmett, but it's gotten out of hand. First the flashback and then the panic attack."

"He has begun to open up to me," I told her, but she just shook her head. "That's good, but it's only going to get worse Mom. You should know," she stated gently. "Once you open that gate the flood starts and it's hard to stop. Dad has opened himself, but he's now trying to shut those gates and finding that he can't. He's struggling when he has no need to."

I found myself nodding in complete agreement. I was so proud of my daughter right now. Proud of her for putting away whatever anger or resentment she felt towards her father, and proud of how helpful and insightful she was being.

"I agree with Rosalie," Alice said. "I remember how Jasper was after he began to talk about his time with Maria, and if it wasn't for all you guys…," she trailed off as she looked at her mate with tender eyes.

"If it weren't fer you guys, I don't know if I woulda been able to do it. Ya helped me through a tough time, and even though I'm still bothered by what happened, it don't haunt me like it used to, and I know I can talk ta any of you if I need to," Jasper stated.

"We want to help Dad," Edward said, a determined look in his eyes. "We know you're struggling Mom with all that's happened, and we're here to tell you that you're not alone. We're here for Dad, and we're here for you."

"We'll get through this Mom," Alice spoke, flashing me a confident smile.

My heart warmed and tears flooded my eyes. I was beyond touched by everything they had said. I gave each child a tender caress of the cheek along with a loving look. Words could not convey what I felt towards each of them now, so I thanked them by accepting their help. I began to speak, telling them about the guilt, doubt, and hurt I felt in regards to Carlisle's punishment. I told them of my fear and worries concerning Carlisle's state of being, and how I was afraid I may have caused him permanent damage. I told them a little of what Carlisle and I had discussed, but left most out as I felt it was a private discussion my husband and I had shared. The children listened, remaining completely silent as I spoke, shooting me encouraging, understanding looks when I would glance up at them. They were amazing. Never had I felt more pride in them that I had in this moment as they bonded together to help me. As I listened to their thoughtful reassurances I could not help but begin to heal. We were a family and we would get through this together as we always did. Carlisle may be our rock, but when that rock cracked we would always be there to fill in the holes.

**A/N: **Bwahahaha! So the kids and Esme are conspiring to get Carlisle to open up. Awesome! PLEASE REVIEW!


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Twilight.

**Warning:** This story contains disciplinary domestic spanking. If that offends you then don't bother reading.

**A/N: **Thank you to whose who continue to review, as always I really, really appreciate it! Not sure if the story is losing interest or not, but the number of reviews per chapter has way dropped, so I appreciate every review I get. Enjoy!

**Chapter 16: Intervene**

**Carlisle's POV:**

"Pops," Emmett began hesitantly, "I know it's none of my business, so feel free to knock me down…." We both winced, Emmett sporting an apologetic look as he muttered, "Sorry, poor choice of words. What I meant to ask you was if you wanted to talk about what happened earlier. Like I said, I know it's none of my business, but you really can't keep something like that inside. If you don't want to talk to me, then at least reassure me that you'll talk to Mom," Emmett hastily explained, avoiding my gaze as he looked down at his feet.

I unconsciously stiffened at his request and was readying my denial when I took notice of Emmett's look of honest concern and determination. He was truly worried about me and what had happened. Not for the first time did I wonder what he may have witnessed, and what he was thinking. As it was, he felt that whatever had happened was something serious enough that I needed to talk about it, if not with him than with Esme.

I tentatively allowed my mind to bring up the wretched memory before quickly banishing it when feelings of guilt, horror, anger, and overwhelming sadness hit me. My airways felt constricted making it difficult for me to breathe and I had to remind myself over and over that I had no need for air. I was fine. There was no need to panic.

Sarah's face flashed into my mind. Her pleading eyes turning accusatory. I froze, stopped breathing and pinched the bridge of my nose as I tried to force these images away.

"Woah now," I heard Emmett gasp out before I felt both his hands being placed on my shoulders. "You're alright Papa, I got you," my bear mumbled as he rubbed his hands into my shoulders. His words brought me comfort, but not as much as I needed to bring myself under control.

I watched myself murder Sarah, watched as her accusing eyes disappeared in a haze of smoke, blood, and bone.

"Pops, you need to open your eyes for me," Emmett spoke earnestly. "I need you to look at me. Come on Pops." I gave a stubborn shake of my head as I broke away from the boy and pressed my hands to my eyes. My breaths were coming in short gasps now.

Stop being so damn weak! I scolded myself harshly. Samuel's face came to the forefront of my mind at this point. His cruel, hateful eyes knew what had almost happened. They knew what I had tried to do. He laughed. Laughed at how pathetic I was. Laughed at how weak I was.

"Damn Papa, it's alright! You're safe now, you're okay," Emmett shouted in clear anxiety. I felt his arms wrap around me from the back and I tensed, my eyes flashing open at the unexpected gesture. I once more stopped breathing as I unconsciously took stock of the situation. When I realized what was happening I slowly began to breathe again before slowly beginning to relax my tense muscles.

"You with me Papa?" Emmett questioned softly, and I gave a single nod of my head. He immediately released me, letting out a breath of relief before mumbling, "Wow Pops, you got it bad."

I let out a laugh, somehow finding his observation quite comical. My boy stared at me with deeply concerned eyes, not understanding my apparent amusement. Now that's a first.

"Pops?" he pressed hesitantly. "You finally cracking up?"

I laughed even harder at his words, which probably only freaked Emmett out even more. I had to admit I probably sounded a tad bit crazy…or hysterical. Maybe I was cracking up. But it was either laugh or burst into tears, and funnily enough I preferred the laughter.

"Aw man, Mama is gonna kill me," Emmett grumbled to himself. "How am I going to explain breaking Pops."

I couldn't help it. I laughed even more at those ridiculous words. Like Esme would ever lay a hand on her precious cub. She was liable to take another strip out of my hide for worrying him so much though, and it was that sobering thought that immediately silenced my laughter.

Esme.

Where was she?

Was she doing alright?

Where had the children wandered off to?

"Pops?" Emmett called out hesitantly causing my attention to be turned towards him. "You alright?"

I nodded my head, giving him a charming smile that only seemed to cause him more worry.

"Just so you know, you're kind of freaking me out," he informed me. "You practically have another panic attack, you then start laughing hysterically, and now you're smiling at me like no big deal. What the heck man?"

My smile faltered at his words before disappearing all together. I wasn't sure what to say. When he put it that way I certainly did sound a bit mad.

"I'm alright," I finally decided to say, both to reassure my son and myself. I am alright. I am just fine. There is no reason to be cracking up. There is no reason to be panicking.

"If you say so," my son mumbled, his expression conveying how doubtful he was.

"How bout you get dressed Pops and we go on a hunt," he then suggested, and I stared at him, wondering whether it was he who wanted to hunt or if he wanted _me_ to hunt. He shifted from one foot to the other, my gaze apparently unnerving him.

"Sure Emmett," I answered, deciding that a hunt would do us both well. I was already thirsty despite having hunted only yesterday and Emmett definitely looked in need of sustenance. These past few days had not only been trying for myself, but for him as well. My son was obviously pleased with my response for his posture relaxed as he gave me a relieved grin.

I quickly made my way into my closet, grabbing a pair of jeans and t-shirt. As I was pulling up the jeans I had to bite down on my lip to keep from letting out a groan. God almighty, my woman sure knew how to deliver a proper chastisement, I thought dryly as I rubbed at my burning posterior. I would have to remember to be more careful. I walked around the closet for a little bit, noticing how much more uncomfortable jeans were to wear than sweat pants. Oh well, it was not unbearable.

Heading out of the closet I glanced at the mirror, only to grimace at how haggard I looked. Now I could completely understand why my wife and children were so worried about me. I did not look well. My hair had a slicked back look from all the times I'd ran a hand through it. My face was paler than usual and the circles under my eyes were darker than ever, not to mention my pitch black eyes. Damn, and I had just hunted yesterday! I could not believe how spent I looked. I supposed I had been through a bit of an ordeal, but still…I turned the tap on in the sink, filled my hand with water and vigorously rubbed my face. It was an absurd action, something a human would do to help themselves wake up or look fresher, but I had been doing a lot of things lately that did not make sense…

Those panic attacks for instance. I had not had one since I had been human, and today alone I had one major one and had been on the verge of another one. Well, the last time I had a panic attack had been after my failed murder attempt on my father. I supposed the memory had triggered the response in me. It was quite embarrassing. Vampires did not need to breathe, yet I had carried on like I could not get enough air. Thank God for Emmett, I thought ruefully. I do not know how the boy did it, but he had been the most successful at getting me to calm down.

I turned the faucet off, gripped the edge of the sink lightly and just stared at myself in the mirror. The face that stared back was that of a young man, but the eyes were that of an old man, a haunted old man. Though it was impossible, I truly felt weary and old. I felt alone even though my son was standing less than ten feet away from me.

I turned my face away from the mirror and looked down instead at my hands. Letting go of the sink I turned my hands around, just staring in a transfixed manner. I saw blood. The blood of the woman I had murdered. I shuddered, a cold chill passing through me as her mangled face flashed through my mind once more.

Roughly shaking my head I turned the faucet on once more and began to vigorously wash my hands.

Get a grip Carlisle, I chided myself. There is nothing there. Quit acting like such a sniveling weak fool! Keep it together!

I sucked in a huge breath, held it in for a few seconds and then let it out. Calm Carlisle, calm. I repeated this process a few more times before I felt my tense muscles beginning to relax.

God, please give me strength. Please help me keep it together. I cannot afford to unravel like this. I cannot afford a breakdown.

_Knock! Knock! Knock!_

I flinched at the loud noise, whirling towards the open doorway to see Emmett standing there, a look of deep concern on his normally jubilant face. I quickly turned the water off and dried my hands before heading towards my son.

"Let's go," I said, giving him a clap on the shoulder. He bit his lip, looking very much like he wanted to say something, but I was in no mood to hear it so I headed towards my open window and jumped out. I heard my son give a quiet sigh before he followed me.

When he was beside me I took off running. I ran as fast as I could with no particular destination in mind. I could understand how Edward found running to be a cathartic experience. The feel of the wind, all the scents enveloping my senses, and just the astounding views were a breath of fresh air for me. I could feel myself relaxing, my mind quieting as it focused on nothing more than my surroundings. The moment would have been perfect if I had not been feeling small stabs of pain in my backside every time I took a step.

**Emmett's POV:**

Aw hell, my dad was NOT okay, not in the slightest.

I wasn't sure what had triggered this, but I was extremely worried about him. Our conversation had gone real well, I thought. We'd opened up to each other, apologized, and forgiven each other. I thought he'd been doing alright, but then I asked if he'd…Oh. I'd asked him if he'd be willing to talk about what put him in a panic. That must be it.

I ran fast, doing the best I could to keep up with Pops. I didn't know why he was running so quickly, but he looked almost as though he were running from the devil himself. What was he trying to escape from? A memory? Most likely given his earlier panic attacks.

But what could be so bad as to rattle him so badly? Never in the three decades that I'd known Carlisle had I seen him so out of sorts. He was falling apart right in front of my eyes and I was terrified because I didn't know what to do or what to say. Heart to hearts weren't really my thing and I wasn't that great with words. I wanted to help, I really did, but I didn't want to make things worse. It was obvious to me that he had to get whatever was bothering him off his chest, but I could tell he was not going to open up to me.

Pops finally began to slow down, jogging at a human pace, turning his head from side to side as he searched for prey. Turning towards me he said, "Meet you back here when we're finished," before taking off. I just watched him disappear before heaving a sigh. I had wanted to keep a close eye on the guy, but it seemed he was doing everything possible to evade my company. Why though? What was he hiding?

Deciding that I had best hunt I pushed thoughts of my dad away, focusing instead on the task at hand.

The hunt didn't last long. I didn't draw it out like I'd usually do and I wasn't picky about prey. I reached our rendezvous point and saw that Pops was already there. He was leaning against a tree, his hands stuffed in his pockets, and just staring up at the dark, overcast sky. I could hear the rumble of thunder and knew that rain wasn't far off. It was like the weather was mirroring his mood. Sigh.

This was not my Pops. This wasn't how things were supposed to be. My Pops was strong and dependable. He always had a smile ready for us kids along with a comforting or encouraging word. He was our rock, and right now our rock looked like it'd taken a serious beating.

"Hey Pops," I greeted casually as I strolled over towards him. Although I was extremely worried, I didn't want him to know that. I didn't want him to feel the need to hide anything more from me than he already was.

"Hello Emmett," he greeted back pleasantly. "Did you have a good hunt?" he asked, his eyes flicking towards mine. I nodded my head, happily noting his eyes were back to a golden color. Well, more like a dark gold, but it was better than black.

I stared at him, not sure what I was looking for, or what I was waiting for. He eyed me before shooting his eyes skyward. Why was he staring up? What was wrong? Why wouldn't he talk? What could I do to help? I should just drag his sorry butt to Mom and have her sort him out.

Pops took his right hand out of his pocket and began to tap his right leg. I couldn't be sure, but that looked to me like a nervous gesture. What was he nervous about? What was he thinking? I noted as the tapping increased in speed, his muscles tensing. Something was seriously wrong. Something was plaguing my dad's mind. I watched as his eyes closed, and his jaw muscles twitched. I had to do something and I had to do it now or he was liable to have another panic attack, I realized nervously. What could I do though?

I pondered that thought for another second before just thinking 'to hell with it'. I bent down, picked up a fistful of mud, threw it, and hoped for the best.

_Splat!_

His eyes burst open, widening in shock as he stared down at his muddied clothes.

"_Emmett_,"—

_Splat!_ Bulls eye, I thought jovially. This time I got him right in the face.

Pops spluttered, spitting out mud as he wiped the brown gunk away from his eyes. He stared down at himself in silence before turning his gaze towards me. I waited in nervous anticipation for his reaction. Had I gone too far? Would he pissed or would he laugh this off?

I let out an internal sigh of relief when I saw the smirk on his face. Breaking out into a wide smile, I raised my eyebrows at him in expectance.

"It's on dead boy," was all he said before filling each of his hands with mud and launching them at me. I managed to dodge the first one but the second one hit me in the shoulder. I was letting out a laugh when I then got hit straight in the mouth.

"Ugh! Yuck, that's disgusting!" I cried out as I did the best I could to spit out all the wretched stuff. Pops was laughing at this point, so I gave an evil grin before filling my hands with mud and racing towards him. Seeing me coming, he too filled his hands with mud.

Game on, I thought.

**Esme's POV:**

The children and I were slowly making our way back towards the cottage when we heard raucous hoots and laughter in the distance. Wondering who on earth it could be we quietly made our way closer only to be completely baffled by the sight in front of us.

My husband, the sophisticated, mature doctor and father of five was covered head to toe in mud, hiding behind a tree with a large, boyish grin on his face and a hand full of mud.

"Is it tasting any better there, bear boy?" he called out teasingly.

"Blech! Yuck, yuck, yuck! Ugh!" I heard Emmett exclaim, causing my eyes to turn to him. He too was covered completely in mud. He was spitting the stuff out of his mouth while glaring in the direction of his father.

"You better watch your back old timer!" Emmett crowed as he filled his hands with mud and stealthily maneuvered himself towards Carlisle. I watched, completely enraptured by the scene unfolding before me. Carlisle was now crouching low to the ground as Emmett continued to make his way towards him. Carlisle had spotted my burly son, and in the blink of an eye he lobbed fistful after fistful at the surprised boy.

"Aw shit!" he yelped before ducking down and beginning to lob his own mud balls towards Carlisle. A few hit but most missed.

"This is hilarious," Alice commented casually, her eyes twinkling in merriment.

"I'll say," Edward mumbled before turning a mischievous eye towards Jasper. "How about we take both of them out?" he questioned, and from the look in Jasper's eyes I could tell my soldier was already scheming.

"Oh no you won't," I interfered, "I believe two dirty children are more than enough for one day." And with that I began to make my way over towards my two 'boys', but not before hearing Rosalie remark in humorous disbelief, "I think she just called Dad a child."

You bet I did Rosebud, I thought. I can't believe my husband allowed himself to be dragged into a mud fight. I gave a somewhat exasperated shake of my head. I really wasn't angry or anything, just surprised; and also a bit happy. I was glad those two had repaired their relationship, and if a mud fight was what was needed, then so be it. However, there were things that needed to be taken care of, and so playtime would have to be put on hold.

Taking a deep breath, I watched as Carlisle was about to throw another fistful of mud before yelling out, "Carlisle Cullen and Emmett Dale Cullen, what exactly do you think you are doing?" I nearly laughed out loud at the sudden gobsmacked expression those two wore as they froze before slowly turning in my direction. Crossing my arms over my chest and giving them a stern glare I raised a questioning eyebrow, all the while fighting back amusement at the guilty expressions they now wore. True to form though those guilty expressions quickly vanished, both brandishing charming smiles as they stood up and made their way over to me.

"Hello Esme," Carlisle greeted with a handsome grin as Emmett gave a boisterous, "Hi Mama Bear!"

I maintained my unamused expression, tapping a finger against my arm and scowling to reveal my impatience. Emmett's grin faltered and he looked towards Carlisle who continued to gaze at me like there was nothing strange about this situation.

I zeroed a stern gaze on him, but he just stared back with the most innocent expression I had ever seen. Emmett stared between the two of us with an unsure look before deciding to speak up. "Uh, we were kind of having a mud fight Mom," he answered.

I gave him a dry look as I responded, "Yes dear, I noticed. May I ask what prompted this little war?"

"Honor," Carlisle replied with a serious nod, somehow able to pull off a noble look even when covered in filth.

I could no longer keep up my façade at this point so I just burst into laughter. Behind me I could hear the rest of my children laughing as well as they made their way over.

"So we're not in trouble?" I heard Emmett whisper nervously to Carlisle.

"Nope," Carlisle responded in amusement. "She was just trying to scare us."

"Aw Mom, that is so not cool!" Emmett complained. "I thought you were about to rip me a new one!"

I just shook my head at him, still unable to control my laughter.

"Emmett, you are not coming anywhere near me until you have had a bath and a clean change of clothes," Rosalie declared.

"I think they're both going to need multiple baths to clean up," Alice commented, eyeing both boys up and down.

"Maybe we should spray 'em with the hose Mama," Jasper suggested, and I grinned widely at the idea, especially when I saw my husband's outraged expression.

"That is an excellent idea Jasper," I agreed, smirking when Carlisle turned outraged eyes towards me. "You are not taking a single step into our house while covered in all that mud."

"Well you are not spraying me with the hose like some manky mutt," Carlisle protested, arms crossed and nose in the air. I began to laugh once more at how ridiculous he looked.

"We could just throw them in the river," Edward remarked before Alice added, "Or leave them out until it rains," which just set everybody off again, except Carlisle and Emmett, who gave us all unamused expressions.

Once we settled down I looked at the pair of miscreants and shook my head fondly. "In all seriousness I am glad to see you two getting along so well. I assume your talk went well."

"Sure did," Emmett answered cheerfully, throwing an arm around his father. Carlisle rolled his eyes as he ruffled his son's hair. My heart warmed at the scene. Both Carlisle's and Emmett's eyes shone a little brighter than the last time I had seen them. They had both been hurting so I was overjoyed that they had mended the rift in their relationship. This was one more burden lifted off my shoulders.

Now came the hard part: Getting Carlisle to open up.

"Let's head back to the cottage," I stated, turning my eyes to Carlisle as I added, "there are matters we need to discuss as a family." My husband's brow furrowed in confusion, not understanding what I was alluding to. That was fine with me. I did not want to give him any more time to talk his way out of this than needed to be. Edward, Jasper, Alice, Rosalie and I had decided the direct approach would be best. We were going to confront Carlisle about this memory that was hurting him so terribly and gently yet firmly demand that he share it with us; and we would not take no for an answer. As my dear Alice said, 'it was time for an intervention'.

I led the way home, ignoring the questioning looks Carlisle was throwing me. When we arrived, I held a hand up to stop Carlisle and Emmett from entering.

"Aww, come on Mom, please tell me you're not going to spray us with a hose," Emmett pleaded, and I gave a light laugh as I shook my head.

"No, I will not," I assured him, ignoring the disappointed groans of the rest of my children. "What you will be doing is taking off your clothes before entering this house," I informed them. Snickers could be heard from behind me as the two miscreants stared at me wide-eyed.

"I will do no such thing Esme," Carlisle declared hotly, and I knew if it were possible he would be blushing.

"Strip _boys_," I ordered, hands on my hips.

Emmett just sighed before ripping off his shirt. I was unsurprised as I knew he wasn't one to be shy. "I can keep my boxers on, right? I love you an' all, but there are just some things a boy don't want his mama to see," he explained with a wink.

I chuckled as I nodded my head. "Yes, of course you can keep your boxers Emmy."

Emmett gave me an impish grin before beginning to kick off his shoes. I turned towards my husband and gave him a pointed look when I noticed he had yet to move.

He just rolled his eyes in mild annoyance before removing his shirt and kicking off his own shoes. Unbuttoning his jeans I did notice how both he and Emmett were very careful when taking them off.

From behind me I shook my head when I heard whistles and cat calls.

Emmett grinned widely, flexing his muscles and showing off while my dear husband just covered his face in embarrassment.

"Alright, that's enough from the lot of you," I stated as I shooed the children inside. "Carlisle go shower," I ordered, and he promptly disappeared, foregoing the front door and just entering our bedroom through the window. "Emmett, there is a guest bathroom down the first hallway," I informed him, and he gave a salute before also disappearing.

I just gave a fond shake of my head as I discarded the dirty clothing before heading inside.

**Carlisle's POV:**

I had finished showering and was in my closet picking what to wear when my wife entered.

"Nice to see your face, husband," she mentioned slyly before giving me a kiss on the lips. I chuckled as I returned the kiss full heartedly.

"Thank you for not using the hose on me," I remarked and she giggled, wrapping her arms around my neck.

"You have no idea how tempted I was by Jasper's suggestion," she answered, a teasing glint in her eyes. "However, I did enjoy watching you strip for me even if you were covered in filth."

I rolled my eyes, giving an amused shake of my head. I was unable to be irritated with my love for that little embarrassing show she put me through. Then again, it was no more embarrassing than having my wife and children come upon me when I was acting like a twelve year old. "Well, I aim to please so it warms my heart to know I was able to bring you joy," I told her sarcastically.

Esme pursed her lips in an attempt to bite back a laugh. "I am sorry darling," she eventually managed to say with some repent. "It truly was not my intent to embarrass you, but I was not going to have you and Emmett traipsing all that mud into our house; so it was either the hose or you stripping to your boxers. Emmett sure didn't seem to mind," she added with a widening smile.

I smiled back as I remarked, "Well that boy has no modesty. He would happily walk around the house naked if he wasn't afraid of—and I quote—'offending Mom and Alice's gentle natures with my manliness'."

Esme gave a hearty laugh at this point, burying her head in the crook of my neck until she was able to calm down. "That boy," she stated fondly.

"Your boy," I corrected, giving her a kiss on the lips as she attempted to protest.

When she pulled away she just huffed before telling me she was looking for something for Emmett to wear. I smothered a grin, knowing I had won this little battle before setting about in search of clothes for my son. I thought for a second before grabbing a pair of blue sweat pants and a white t-shirt for him. It would be more comfortable than the jeans he'd been sporting. It had not escaped my notice the stiff gait with which my boy walked. Thankfully, my human years seemed to come in handy at this point as it had given me an inordinate amount of practice in hiding my pain. It was slightly amazing how quickly these old habits could come back to me.

Esme accepted the clothing, gave me a peck on the cheek and disappeared. I glanced around my closet, wanting very much to wear jeans or slacks, but in all reality knowing that sweats were the best choice; so I grabbed a pair of black sweats and a light blue t-shirt. It would be obvious to the children at this point that like Emmett I too suffered from a sore backside, but I would just have to deal with it. I had to stop trying to hide from them. It was not a weakness to appear vulnerable in front of your family.

Once I was dressed I made my way to the living room where everyone was congregated. Right away I noticed the absence of my belt and the broken chair, but I didn't say anything about it. I noticed Jasper, Alice, and Edward sitting together on the couch while Rosalie and Emmett sat on the floor right in front. Emmett sat on a couple of cushions and threw me a lopsided grin as I entered the room.

"Thanks for the clothes Pops," he stated, and I smiled back at him. My eyes landed on my wife at this point who was standing by her lounge chair. I stared at my family and could not help but tense slightly. There was a feeling of anxiousness and anticipation in the room and it was putting me on edge. What was going on? Why were they all staring at me so solemnly?

A strong feeling of foreboding hit me, but I did the best I could to control my own anxiety as I walked towards Esme. She gave me a beautiful smile, holding out a hand that I all too happily grabbed onto.

"What's going on?" I questioned, feeling too tired to beat around the bush. I had not failed to notice the determined look in her eye nor in the eyes of our children.

"Carlisle," Esme spoke gently, and I immediately became wary. Her tone was akin to what one would use when approaching a dangerous animal, so that only served to increase my anxiety up a notch.

She took my hands in hers and motioned for me to sit in her chair. I gave her a, 'you must be joking' look, to which she responded, "Please take a seat." I barely resisted a huff of annoyance before deciding it would be best to just do as asked. The looks of stubborn determination my family was sporting pretty much meant I was going to hear whatever they had to say whether I wanted to or not.

Esme let go of my hands and then disappeared briefly, returning with one of the wooden kitchen chairs. Well, I guess this lounge chair is better than that, I thought ruefully. Once she was seated I gave her a grateful smile to indicate thanks for giving me the chair with a cushion. She gave me a brief smile and nod.

"How are you doing?" she then asked, and I raised an eyebrow at her while giving the automatic answer of, "Just fine."

I heard a few disbelieving snorts and scoffs from my kids before Esme silenced them with a raised hand as she stared at me with disappointment. I felt a stab of guilt at the look.

"Please, no games today Carlisle. It is time for you to be honest and open with us," Esme responded

I resisted the urge to tap my fingers nervously against my leg as I asked, "Honest and open about what? Esme, _what_ is going on?"

"This is an intervention," Alice piped up, and I stared at her in befuddlement. An intervention? What for?

"Carlisle, the children told me about the panic attack you had upon 'waking' earlier today," my wife stated, and my gaze immediately snapped back to her. My blank mask was on and my muscles tensed without thought, ready to flee or fight.

A wave of calm and tranquility shot through me causing me to loosen my muscles and relax a little before I realized what was happening. A low growl erupted from me, and I shot my fair-haired boy a look of warning as I said a sharp, "Stop!"

"Sorry Dad," he mumbled, looking down in apology, and I let out a tired sigh at the dejected look he now sported. He had only been trying to help. There was no need to respond so strongly. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I softened my expression before looking at Jasper.

"I'm sorry as well Jasper. I should not have reacted so strongly. I know you were only trying to help, but you know better than to influence my emotions without permission. Please don't do it again," I warned lightly before turning a guarded look back towards my wife. Her lips were pursed tightly, revealing her displeasure at my overreaction, but they loosened up after my apology. She still did not look too pleased but she let it go with a sigh, continuing on as though I had not interrupted.

"What caused the panic attack, darling?" she asked concernedly.

I stiffened and sat straight up in my chair as I forcefully fought back a harsh reply of 'none of your damn business'. Memories fought to take control, but I held them back as best I could. I did not want to remember. Gritting my teeth, I looked around the room in an effort to distract and thus calm myself. It did not work as I ended up looking from one concerned face to another; in fact I ended up feeling worse. Guilt now coursed through me at being the cause for all this concern. I understood what was happening now. They were going to try and convince me to talk about this newfound memory. I wanted to feel touched at their show of concern, but in reality all I felt was fear and irritability.

They could not know what happened. They _should not_ know what happened. They would not understand. They would never look at me the same again. They would be disgusted.

I inhaled deeply, allowing the scents of my family to calm me.

I looked at my wife then and just shook my head at her. She frowned, the worry and determination on her face only strengthening. She was not going to let this go.

"You remembered something terrible, didn't you?" she pressed gently. "Something concerning Samuel?" I stared back, my jaw clenched tightly as I refused to answer her. My eyes were pleading with her to drop this, to just let this go; but it seemed she was going to be as stubborn as me.

"Is this the same memory you experienced yesterday?" she questioned, and I continued to remain silent as I did the best I could to fight off the memories. I didn't want to think about it now. I did not want to remember. I did not want to know. I gripped onto the armrests tightly, making sure to not grip too tightly as I fought to keep my emotions under control.

The silence was deafening and the tension thick. My love looked more and more worried with every passing second, and my resolve began to dwindle.

"_Why_?" I choked out. "Why do you want to know? What does it matter what I remembered? I am just fi"—I was saying before she cut me off.

Her eyes flashed as she hissed and said, "_Stop lying to me Carlisle!_" She was standing up now and breathing heavily from sheer anger. "You are _anything_ but fine and everyone here knows it. You may not be willing to acknowledge it Carlisle, but you are falling apart. I can see it. The children can see it. You need help and we, _your family_, are here to offer that. I know something is haunting you, and I hate to force the issue, but you _really_ need to talk to us. I'd love to wait for you to come to me when you are ready, but I know that would be never. I am tired, _so damned tired_ Carlisle of you keeping things from me," she said, her voice filled with anger and hurt. "I can see as plain as day that you are hurting deeply, and it _kills me_ that you deny yourself any help. You are not alone Carlisle! Do you understand that?"

"Esme, of course I"—I attempted to speak once more, but she again cut me off.

"No Carlisle, do not speak," she snapped, her golden eyes filled with fire. I frowned at how she cut me off and made to stand but she placed both hands on my shoulders and forced me back down with a stern look. I bit back a grunt of pain along with a growl of annoyance. I wanted to glare, but did not want the children to witness an argument between their mother and I. I still remembered how upset they had all become when they were told of an argument of ours concerning Jasper's first spanking. They had all been quite distressed and they had not even witnessed the argument.

Choosing instead to grip the armchair a little more tightly I made sure to keep my blank mask on as I stared straight into my wife's annoyed eyes.

"Let go of that stubborn pride and _listen_ to what I am saying," Esme began to lecture once more. There was a pleading note to her voice now, and it was that that calmed me down quicker than anything. The guilt came back again and I cursed my wretched self for causing her all this anguish.

"_You are not alone_," she repeated strongly. "We are all here for you. Every single person here loves you dearly and would go to the ends of the earth to help you, as we all know you would do for us."

"Dad," Rosalie suddenly spoke, "you've helped all of us deal with our pasts and the memories that haunt us, so let us return the favor. You don't have to deal with this by yourself. We _want_ to help you, so please don't think you're going to burden us or anything."

"You can't bottle all those emotions in Papa," Jasper added, "cuz they're just gonna eat ya up and spit ya out like a used bit of tobacco." I felt a burst of amusement at his metaphor and fought back a smile. My son's lips twitched as he no doubt felt my jolt in amusement before he turned serious and continued to speak. "Mamas right, ya ain't doin' well at all. I can feel ya struggling. I can feel how hard yer tryin' to keep control of yer emotions, but yer falling apart. _Something_ is really bothering you, and ya need to tell us so we can help."

"I appreciate the sentiment, but I truly can handle"—I began to speak before being cut off for a third time.

"No you can't Pops!" Emmett burst out in agitation. "You're not fooling anybody so quit lying to us and quit lying to yourself. You nearly worked yourself into a panic twice when it was just the two of us," he mentioned, and I could not help but shoot him an accusing glare.

"I was not panicking," I retorted defensively, but he just glared at me.

"You can't fool me Pops. When I was human I had a little brother who used to suffer from panic attacks. I learned early on how to recognize them," he explained, and I stared at him in surprise. "Some damned memory is triggering these attacks. How do you alone plan on dealing with that? You just going to bury this memory like all the others? You just going to forget about it and hope it all gets better?"

I looked down at my knees, unable to look him in the eyes anymore. He had hit the nail on the head. I had been planning on just doing as I had always done: burying the memory and forgetting about it. That was how I dealt with things. That was how I had always dealt with things that caused me too much pain.

"It won't work Dad," Rosalie declared, her voice full of empathy. "You can't hide from your past. You can't shut it away so that it can't hurt you. It may work for a time, but it will always be there festering like a poison until one day it just takes over and consumes you."

"If it's shame yer feelin', don't be," Jasper remarked. "Nuthin' that you tell us is gonna make us think any lesser of you."

"We know you had a hard past Dad," Alice decided to input. "We know about your abusive father, and how hard you tried to please him even though in your heart you knew he was a bad man." I lifted my head up and looked at Alice with sad eyes. "You know all our pasts, the good and the bad; and nothing we did changed the way you felt about us, did it?"

"Of course not," I answered dully.

"We made mistakes…some worse than others," Edward mentioned grimly, and I knew he was alluding to his rebellious days. "You didn't hold them against us. You told us we weren't monsters or killers. You told us that despite our past traumas we were still good people at heart, and that would never change."

I felt a lump in my throat at his words and the words of the rest of my family. They were absolutely right. I was being a hypocrite. They were too kind to say so, but I knew they must be thinking it. I always told them they could come to me for anything, that they could tell me anything, and they did. I had helped each one of them overcome past hurts. I had helped them deal with their negative views of themselves, such as Rosalie who saw herself as a used piece of trash , and Edward who thought himself a soulless monster. I knew they still had their moments of doubt, but I also knew that they would come to me if it ever became too much. That's what families did. They helped each other. They did not judge.

I should do this. I needed to do this. I had to do this. I _would_ do this.

I was not a coward. There was no reason for me to be afraid of what they would think. I could trust them. They would not hurt me.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

"Alright," I whispered faintly, my elbows resting on my knees with my head in my hands. I heard their sighs of relief, hell, I even felt the relief because of Jasper. In fact, I felt more than just relief. I felt happiness and pride. The lump in my throat grew at those simple emotions. My family was happy and proud of me for having made this decision. I did not know what to say.

"We will do this at your pace, darling," Esme announced kindly, placing her hand on top of my head. She ran her fingers through my hair and then said, "If you need help we can ask you questions, or you can start however or whenever you want." I just gave a silent nod, leaning my head more into her hand. Her hand felt quite soothing and comforting, and I really needed both right now.

Inhale. Exhale.

One step at a time.

I can do this.

It will be just fine.

Do not be afraid.

Start.

Lifting my head, I gently grabbed a hold of my wife's wrist and gave it a light kiss before letting go. She gave me an encouraging smile and I nodded my head before taking a huge breath and turning towards my kids. Esme remained near me to offer whatever support she could.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

"When I went through my transformation I was all too happy to let go of my human memories," I began, complete silence befalling the group as all eyes and ears were focused on me. "The memories I let go of most were pretty much anything revolving around my father. I forgot so much that upon waking I had a hard time remembering what he even looked like. I did know that he was not a good man, but no specifics." My mind drifted back so easily to that day, and I recalled my confusion and my terror. I shook my head slightly to rid myself of those thoughts before resuming.

"Over the years I have found myself remembering more and more bits of my human life. Events I have experienced have invariably triggered the memories, and the ones concerning Samuel began to come back more frequently after I turned Edward; after I became a father." I looked at my firstborn son, giving him a loving smile.

"Fatherhood did not come easily to me, and there were several bumps along the way," I explained, exchanging a fond grin with Edward who rolled his eyes dramatically.

"And they were rather large ones too," he exaggerated, and everyone gave soft chuckles.

"My apologies," I retorted in mild sarcasm before becoming serious. "I used memories of Samuel so that I could learn how to be a father. I basically felt anything he did was wrong, so that if I wanted to be a better father than him, then I would need to do the exact opposite. It worked out rather well I'd say."

"Definitely," Edward agreed, and I flashed him an appreciative look.

"The more I began to remember the more I became sickened by the things he did," I continued somberly. "My biggest fear since I started this family was that I would one day act as Samuel had with me; and unfortunately that fear became a reality." I stared over at Emmett now who waved his hand at me in a dismissive manner.

"Don't stress about it Pops," he stated. "Water under the bridge. It's in the past."

I gave my boy a look full of pride and gratitude. His tenacity and capacity to forgive never ceased to astound me.

"Thank you Emmett," I replied. "I know things are okay between us, but this is not an event that I can ever allow myself to forget. It cannot happen again. It _will not_ happen again, I promise you all," I declared strongly, staring at each child in turn.

"I have discussed what occurred with Emmett, but if any of you have any questions or concerns, I urge you to come speak with me," I informed them. "I do not want any of you to have cause to fear or mistrust me in any way. This subject is open to you all, and I promise to answer any questions you may have."

Surprised looks were exchanged before nods given.

"Friday's _mishap_ triggered a new memory…a rather terrible and violent memory. I…" I let out a shaky breath, flashing a sheepish smile to my family, embarrassed by my floundering. "I did some horrible things. I tried—Samuel forced—I just…" I could not finish a sentence. My mind whirled with how to explain, and my fear of rejection kept me from thinking clearly. I ran my hand through my hair, gripping it tightly before releasing. I did not know what to say, and looking at the expectant, earnest faces that surrounded me only caused me further stress. How was I going to explain this? How could I make them understand?

I tensed when I felt Esme take a hold of my left hand. "Did this memory occur in the span of a single day?" she questioned softly, and I gave a short nod.

"Well, then why don't you start off at the beginning of the day?" she suggested.

I considered the suggestion before shaking my head. "No, I need to explain. You need to understand a little more before I can get into the memory. You need to know the kind of life I led." I looked at my wife, squeezing her small hand in mine as I told her, "I already explained a bit to you, so bear with me as I reiterate a bit of what we spoke of to the children."

She smiled in understanding as she gave a nod. "Say whatever you want, darling. This is about you, and what you want or need."

I gave her hand another squeeze before inhaling a deep breath. Here goes nothing.

**A/N:** I know, not much happening in this chapter, but I needed a transitioning chapter. What'd you think of the mud fight? I felt this story needed a little humor as it was pretty heavy with the emotions and all. Next chap Carlisle opens up to the fam and they help him deal with the guilt. PLEASE REVIEW!


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Carlisle. So sad. Life goes on though.

**Warning: **This story contains disciplinary spanking. You don't like, you don't read or flame. Enough said.

**Chapter 17: Dark**

**Edward's POV:**

I sat patiently on the couch next to Alice and Jasper waiting for Carlisle to collect his thoughts. My heart ached at seeing him so distressed and…_vulnerable_. My father was always, and I mean _always_ the epitome of confidence and calm. Right now though, he looked down right haggard and unsure of himself. It wasn't right, and I didn't like it one bit.

I'll admit that I was extremely curious as to what he was going to say, and judging from my siblings' and mother's thoughts they too were just as curious. I felt guilty about this curiosity, but it was hard to control. We all knew so little about Dad that we were always eager for little tidbits. It was sort of a morbid curiosity as we all knew anything from Dad's past was not happy; and from the way he'd reacted to this newfound memory we knew it was going to be a horribly depressing one.

I was elated that we had finally convinced him to open up to us. Dad had been able to help me deal with my past hurts, so I was eager to repay the favor. I didn't want him to look haunted anymore. I didn't want him to feel as if he couldn't talk to us. I didn't want his past to hurt him so much. I _hated_ seeing the way he would close himself off to everyone any time his childhood or father were mentioned. I hated how guarded he felt he needed to be, even after several decades of living with us.

From Jasper's thoughts I knew that Dad was afraid, and that caused me to be afraid. What was he afraid of? Was he afraid of what we would think or of what the memory entailed? I focused on Alice's thoughts at this point hoping for a preview of what was to come, but she was blocking her visions. She didn't want to know ahead of time. She wanted to find out with the rest of us. Focusing instead on my dad once more, I gave an internal sigh when I once more ran into his mental barrier.

I supposed it was for the best that I could not hear his thoughts. I remembered how terrible witnessing his memory of Ariana was, and I really was not too keen on experiencing anything like that ever again. I also was rather certain I did not want to hear Dad's anguish, guilt, and fear.

I wanted _my _dad back and I wanted him back _now_.

Carlisle took in a breath as if to steel himself for what he was about to say. I unconsciously found myself leaning forward in anticipation.

"You all know about Ariana," he began, his eyes flicking towards me. My expression turned abashed, and I gave him an apologetic look. Technically he had never told me to keep the memory to myself, but maybe he felt he hadn't needed to.

"Dad, I'm sorry"—I began to apologize but he waved it away.

"Don't be," he responded kindly. "I never told you it was a secret. How much do they know?"

I bit my lip before replying, "Everything." I wondered if that would upset him, but he only gave an understanding nod.

"I am glad you told them, son, as it saves me from having to do so," he said, offering me a brief smile. I let out a sigh of relief as I returned it, immensely happy that I had not broken his trust.

"The incident with Ariana was a turning point for me," Dad began. "It was the moment when I realized the kind of man my father really was. I realized what a heartless piece of filth he was, and that he no longer cared about finding out whether his victims were truly innocent or not. There was no reasoning with him," he recounted, his tone revealing his anger and frustration. Mom placed her hand on his knee and gave it a squeeze, which seemed to help Dad relax somewhat. He took in a few calming breaths.

"So you didn't hate your dad until after this event?" Rosalie asked in confusion. "Even though he, um…," she trailed off awkwardly.

"Even though he beat me?" Dad responded dryly with a raised eyebrow, and Rosalie gave an embarrassed nod. Her thoughts told me she was guilty for bringing this up, but also intensely curious.

The room was dead silent, the tension hiked up a notch. No one had ever dared bring up the abuse Carlisle suffered for fear of his reaction.

"Growing up I did not see his treatment of me as anything out of the ordinary," Dad spoke, giving a shrug. "I thought him to be overly strict with high expectations, expectations that I never managed to meet, but nothing more. I normally felt I deserved whatever punishment I received. I wanted to please my father and make him proud. As I grew older I began to question things more and more, and by the time I was fourteen I had serious doubts in regards to my father's supposed duty from God. Ariana was just my breaking point. I could no longer delude myself into believing my father was a good man…or that he cared for me at all." Dad looked down at his knees at this point. "It was a hard pill to swallow," he remarked quietly.

"Why?" Emmett questioned. "Your old man sounds awful. Why was that so difficult for you to accept? Why did his opinion matter so much?"

Dad looked up, his piercing eyes now focused fully on Emmett who shifted somewhat uneasily.

"He was my father Emmett," Carlisle answered with a bitter smile. "He was the man who raised me. He gave me shelter, food, clothing, and an education. He taught me how to fend for myself. I know you all view him as some kind of monster, and while I agree, it was not always that way. There had been good in him." His eyes turned distant and sad as he spoke. "I remember him caring for me when I fell sick. I remember him tending to my injuries, and I even remember joking around with him. He was not always a cruel man. There were moments where he was…kind."

I listened in surprise, although the more I thought about what he'd said the less surprised I eventually became. It made sense, I supposed. We'd always viewed Samuel Cullen as the devil incarnate, but I supposed he could not always have been so evil, especially having raised a son as amazing as Carlisle.

"I suppose it was his work that changed him, or perhaps it was how disappointing a son I was. As I grew he became colder, angrier, and more distant. I tried to hold onto those precious few memories where he showed me kindness and love, but it grew increasingly difficult. Eventually I knew that man was no more." Carlisle looked lost in thought for a few moments before looking at Emmett once more.

"We discussed this before Emmett, don't you remember?" Carlisle asked, and Emmett's eyes lit up in remembrance before he gave a grim nod. Emmett recalled the aforementioned conversation and I realized it happened years ago, back after Emmett's first spanking. "He was the only parent I ever had, and his love and acceptance meant everything to me as a child. I did everything in my power to attain it, but it was never enough. After Ariana's execution I convinced myself that I did not need or want Samuels's love, and for the most part I succeeded."

We all nodded her heads in understanding. Samuel was the only father Carlisle ever knew. He was the man who raised him so it was only natural that Carlisle would have looked up to him. He obviously had no one else to turn to, so Samuel was all he had.

"My anger towards Samuel eventually turned to hatred and resentment," Dad explained. "I could not stand watching innocent people be murdered, especially as he began to force me to take an active part. He knew of my feelings so he sought to rid me of them with no success. At sixteen I had enough so I ran away. Unfortunately, I was caught and brought back. The punishment that followed was horrible enough that I came up with a new, less overt method of rebellion."

My siblings and I exchanged uneasy looks at his mention of punishment, each of us wondering what could have happened. We also wondered what sort of rebellion Carlisle could have gotten into, and what trouble he had brought down on himself because of it.

_Damn_, I heard Emmett think¸ _and here I always thought Pops to be a well behaved kid, yet here he is talking about running away and rebelling. _I gave a mental nod of agreement, while at the same time thinking that Carlisle had all the reason in the world to act out in this way, unlike us. Our misbehavior looked downright foolish and childish compared to Dad's. I couldn't help but feel ashamed of myself for the way I acted, and from my siblings' thought I knew I wasn't the only one. We were like-no, we _were_ spoiled children compared to him.

"I pretended to be the perfect son. It took much work, and much convincing, but I eventually fooled my father into believing that he had broken me. I did everything he asked of me, well, nearly everything. I still had to act up then and again (which wasn't difficult) as my perfect obedience would have made him suspicious."

"Why would you pretend to be the perfect son?" I asked him incredulously. "What would you obtain by doing that?"

Dad turned towards me, a sardonic smile on his face. "Less beatings to begin with, but most importantly access to innocent victims. I was able to save several lives and not get caught because Samuel trusted me."

My eyebrows raised up in surprise.

"You helped people escape?" Alice questioned in slight awe. "And you were never caught?"

"I helped people escape," Dad repeated, his face then turning dark as he said, "and unfortunately, I was caught."

The tension thickened, the anxiety becoming palpable. Mom's face turned paler as she shot her husband a look of deep concern. I guess she hadn't heard this part.

Tuning into her thoughts and those of my siblings I could hear the extreme worry they felt for Carlisle. Even though he had obviously survived the incident, it concerned us greatly to wonder what he would have had to have endured. From what I knew of Samuel Cullen, I could only imagine he would not have been pleased by the deception of his only son; and he would have made him pay dearly. Judging from the look on my dad's face I had a feeling we were about to find out what this punishment was.

I suddenly found myself feeling sick to my stomach, and my brow furrowed in confusion as I noted my siblings experiencing the same feeling. When I read Jasper's mind though to see what was going on I realized he was accidentally projecting what Dad was feeling.

Dad, noting our peculiar expressions quickly realized what was happening and took in several slow and steady breaths, which helped calm him. Jasper let out a sigh of relief before projecting the calm to all of us. I too let out a sigh of relief as I felt the unpleasant sensation leave me. It had been a long time since I had felt nauseous.

"Sorry," Dad and Jasper muttered at the same time, small smiles cracking on their faces. Dad's smile quickly disappeared though as he said what I had already anticipated.

"This memory I've been…dealing with is about when I was caught," he stated.

"Did I do something to trigger it?" Emmett questioned concernedly.

"No son," Dad responded hoarsely. "Something _I_ did triggered it. When I…_hurt_ you I, well…all I could think of was how like my father I had acted, and…and of how often I used to allow my temper to get the best of me." Dad shifted uncomfortably in his seat, the slightest of grimaces flashing across his face. "I still cannot fathom how I was able to have forgotten this memory for so long. Shame and guilt most likely," he muttered, speaking more to himself than us.

"How did you get caught?" Jasper prompted, and Dad heaved a heavy sigh, running a hand through his blonde hair.

"Arrogance," he answered, his tone full of self reproach, "and damned carelessness." Arrogance? Really? That just didn't fit. It seemed I wasn't the only one to think so because Rosalie immediately scoffed.

"You? Arrogant? Careless?" she questioned in disbelief. "You are anything but Dad. In fact I would say you are the complete opposite. You are the most humble man I know, and—what? What is so funny?" she demanded when Carlisle began to stare at her with an amused smile. The amusement did not reach his eyes though, which were dark and murky, full of sadness and bitterness.

"It always amuses me how you children seem to believe I was just born the way I am," he remarked dryly. "I was nineteen when this memory occurred, and I was not the man I am today. My heart was full of anger, hatred, and a thirst for revenge. I was reckless and bullheaded. I did things my way and no one was going to change my mind. I absolutely _loathed_ playing the perfect little son, so when I had time away from my dear _father_," he spat, "I was anything but obedient. I made sure to break all his rules, so I cursed, drank, gambled, fought, and I even stole a time or two just for the thrill."

_Holy crap_, Emmett thought while Jasper was thinking, _And I thought I'd given my human parents trouble. This is just too damn unbelievable._

The girls and Mom were stunned, their thoughts revealing sheer disbelief and astonishment. They just were not able to fathom _Dad_ as a rebellious teen.

"Was I arrogant? Was I careless?" Dad questioned with a slight smirk, his British accent thicker than ever. "You bet I was."

None of us were quite sure how to respond to Dad's words so we just remained silent. It was ignorant of us, I guess, to have assumed that Dad had always been the way he was now. I mean, I certainly didn't act the same as I had when I was fourteen. Hell, I didn't even act the same as when I was first turned. It was just so mind boggling for us all to see Dad as a troublemaker though as he was always urging us to follow the rules and to be responsible and mature…but I guess Dad was a kid too once. He had all the reason in the world to rebel from his father, and I really could understand his desire to let loose.

My little rebellion in the late 1920's had been me letting loose so to speak. I had become tired of Carlisle and Esme's overprotectiveness and bossiness so I had set out, determined to break every rule they had ever given me in an attempt to declare my independence. Of course, my plan had not turned out as brilliant or enjoyable as I had anticipated it would. I had almost right away realized the grievous mistake I had made, but I had been too prideful and full of guilt to return home. I had felt excitement the first few months, but as time went on I became miserable and homesick beyond belief. In my attempt to rebel and assert my independence, I had never felt more like a little boy needing his parents than during that time.

It took a few years, but eventually the need for my Dad and Mom overcame my guilt and pride and I tracked them down. I was prepared to get down on my knees and beg for forgiveness, but I hadn't even raised a hand to knock on the door when my mother had thrown the door wide open and pulled me into her arms crying out, "Oh my baby! My baby boy, I've missed you so much!" Venom tears streamed down her face and I did the best I could to console her, even though I had wanted to burst into tears myself. It wasn't until I'd seen Carlisle, my creator, my best friend, my _father_ that my own tears began to fall. "Edward," was all he said, but he spoke it with such love and joy that I lost my self control. Bursting into tears of shame, guilt, and sorrow I rushed Carlisle as I sobbed out, "Carlisle, I'm sorry, please forgive me! Please, _please _Dad, forgive me!"

Of course, Dad, being the compassionate, forgiving man that he was immediately wrapped his arms around me, and held me tightly as he gave me the forgiveness I so desperately sought. He told me how much he loved me, how much he had missed me, and apologized for not having gone after me.

I smiled softly before shaking my head of this memory. Now was not the time for nostalgia. I had to focus on the present.

I listened in to everyone else's thoughts and found Jasper's to be intriguing. _I guess I shouldn't be so surprised_, he thought._ This is the guy who turned away from his very nature ta do things the way he wanted, on his own terms. It had to have been incredibly difficult, but he had managed to refrain from human blood, even as a newborn. He refused to give in to his inner beast, which I guess is a trait he carried from his human life. _

Jasper had a point, I thought, my attention then caught by Esme's musings.

_I do not know why I am so disbelieving. I have witnessed his stubbornness time and time again, and I had already figured him to be a mischievous child. I often see this side of him when he roughhouses with the boys or teases the children. He gets this look in his eye that is so reminiscent of Emmett that I just know he had to have been a little hellion as a child._ At this point an image of a child Carlisle pops into her mind, and I can't help but grin. If I were one of my sisters I probably would have cooed at the image, but as a guy all I did was stifle a chuckle.

Jasper caught my amusement and game me an incredulous look. _What in God's name are ya finding so damn amusing?"_ he questioned.

I lightly tapped my head before motioning with my head towards Mom. His confusion dimmed somewhat, but he still couldn't understand how whatever our mother was thinking at this moment would be in any way amusing.

I ignored his continuing confusion and tuned in once more to Mom's thoughts. An image of my father angrily pacing up and down the kitchen, glaring, growling, and then slamming his hand through the kitchen table played in her mind, and all amusement I felt immediately left me. What the hell? _The fact that he had a temper as a child, or young man, _she mused_, really does not surprise me based off the way he has acted these past few days. I certainly saw it rear its ugly head quite a few times. _Her thoughts showed me different instances of Dad glaring at Mom, of him _baring _his teeth at her, of him _shouting_ at her.

I had no idea what to think about all these instances. I felt angry at Dad for treating Mom in such a way, but I also felt sad as I realized how out of sorts my father had to have been to have treated Mom as he did.

I took a close look at Dad, and seeing his brooding expression, the casual clothes, messy hair, and even the way he was slouched in his chair I suddenly had no trouble picturing him as a troubled teenager.

"What happened Pops?" Emmett then questioned, impatience and anxiety clear in his tone, posture, and thoughts. He was really worried about Dad and he wanted to know right now what memory was torturing our dad so that he could help him. I felt a rush of love towards my older, blundering brother. That guy could be annoying as hell, but his heart was pure gold. He loved this family with all his being and would do _anything_ to protect it. He was already feeling a deep seated hatred against Samuel Cullen for all the hurt he had caused and continued to cause Carlisle. If the pastor hadn't been dead, he sure as hell would've once Emmett got his paws on him. Mind you, he'd have to get in line behind me first.

Carlisle flicked his eyes towards Emmett before staring off into space. His brooding expression turned guarded as he began to speak. "I was 19 years old. Father and I were home when we received news of a supposed witch right there in London." I listened intently as he described the woman Sarah and the ridiculous reason behind her supposed guilt. He told us of his fatal mistake in having questioned Samuel as to Sarah's whereabouts. He described sneaking into her cell, rescuing her and guiding her towards the forest when his father and two men stepped out in front of them.

A few groans were heard in the room at Carlisle's rotten luck. We knew he'd been caught but we had all hoped that he would've at least been able to save the innocent woman. We knew what her death would mean to Dad, so we did not want her saved just because she was innocent, but for his sake as well.

Dad's rate of breathing had increased slightly and he was clenching and unclenching his fists around the armrests of his chair.

"I was terrified and furious," Dad admitted in shame, "but I focused all my attention on what I could do to help Sarah instead of what my father would do to me." He shifted around in his chair, tapping fingers against his thigh in nervous energy. His expression was closed off, but his eyes could not hide the fear, anger, and hurt he was experiencing. Mom clearly noted his increasing distress for she reached out a comforting hand only to retract it when Dad evaded her touch by actually scooting his chair back until he was out of arms reach from her.

I didn't need to be Jasper to feel the absolute shock my siblings and I were feeling. Even Dad himself looked surprised by his actions, but he made no move to apologize or move back towards Mom. Surprisingly, Mom was the least shocked of us all. A quick check into Jazz's mind told me that while Mom felt hurt, she was mostly angry. She gave my dad a disapproving look, but he steadfastly refused to look at her. I exchanged concerned looks with my siblings, none of us knowing what to make of this.

I'd seen Dad angry. I'd seen him upset, but never, _never _had I seen him like this. It was almost like, well…I focused my attention on Mom's thoughts to get her insight on what was occurring. She knew Carlisle better than anyone and since she wasn't surprised by what was occurring I knew she'd seen him like this before.

Mom sighed. _I thought we had gotten past this stage already, yet here we are again. I sure hope talking about this damned memory helps him because I want my Carlisle back, not the rebellious son of Samuel Cullen._

Huh, I thought, my brow furrowing as I contemplated what I'd just heard. I looked towards Dad again and once more saw a surly young man. So that's what was going on. As Carlisle recalled his past it was as though he were regressing to that age. That definitely would explain why his accent was so thick now, and his attitude. As he recounted his memory it was if he was reliving it.

"I did the best I could to save Sarah, but in the end I failed…I failed _miserably_," Dad spoke hollowly as he stared down at his lap. "Father's men pulled her away from me, beating her into submission before pulling their guns on her. I tried to help, but Father pulled out his pistol and pointed it at me."

"That son of a gun did what?!" Emmett roared furiously, as growls and snarls erupted from everyone. I grinded my teeth and clenched my fists tightly at the thought of that monster threatening my father.

"He pulled a gun on you?!" Rosalie yelled angrily. "That two-bit bastard!"

"How dare he threaten you!" Alice screeched, her tiny hands balled into fists. Jasper sat next to her silently seething like me as my mother held back angry tears. She sat frozen like a statue, her eyes closed as she attempted to calm herself

Dad's eyes gazed at each one of us before he shrugged unconcernedly and laid his head back, staring up at the ceiling. "Rather certain he was bluffing, although at the time I did believe he would kill me," he expanded offhandedly. "I should have realized though that as disappointing as a son that I was to him I was also his only heir."

I felt sick at his words and at the casual manner in which he spoke them. His own father had pointed a gun at him and right now he spoke of it like it was no big deal. My mother and siblings shared my concerns, but remained silent. Mom's lips were pursed, and although there were several things she wanted to say she felt that now was not the time.

Dad tapped his finger against his leg again as he then said in an emotionless voice, "My careless mistake and foolish fear ended with Sarah's death. She died because of me."

"No she didn't Dad," Alice attempted to argue. "You did the best you could. It was your father who killed"—

"No it wasn't," Dad interrupted, his voice nothing more than a whisper. "_I_ killed her."

He what?!

"No you didn't," I protested in disbelief, reeling back in slight fear when Dad's suddenly irate eyes flashed towards me.

"Yes I did!" he snapped harshly as he sat up straight. "I pointed a gun at her head and I pulled the bloody trigger!"

I was absolutely floored, my eyes widening in dubiety. No way, this just couldn't be true.

_He's lying. There's no way Dad would ever kill someone._

_ Why? Why would he kill a woman he wanted to save?_

_ What the hell man? This just can't be! Pops is not a murderer!_

_ I don't wanna believe this, but his emotions tell me he ain't lying. _

_ Oh Carlisle, what would have pushed you to do this? What did Samuel do to you?_

"Why Carlisle?" my mother asked after several tense moments of silence. "What did Samuel threaten you with?"

Dad stared at her with an unreadable expression for several seconds before the anger just evaporated from him. He graced her with the briefest of smiles as he answered. "He threatened to hand her over to the two men with him. I had seen them _deal_ with criminals before and I knew the suffering they would put Sarah through." Dad's eyes dimmed, taking on a haunted quality as his voice grew hoarse "I knew I had failed and that there was nothing I could do for her. I…," he swallowed thickly, rubbing a hand over his face before pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I didn't want to—I told him no," Dad explained, his tone slightly pleading now as he turned his eyes towards us. "I refused him, but there was nothing I could do. Her fate was sealed the moment I decided to rescue her. All that was left to decide was how she would die, and though it tore me apart to do so I knew a bullet to the head would be merciful compared to the death Thomas and Frederick would give her."

I heaved a sad sigh as I nodded in understanding. Dad didn't have a choice. Sarah's fate had been decided, so Dad did the only thing he could for her; he gave her a quick death. It was horrible, and depressing beyond belief, but better than the alternative.

**Jasper's POV:**

The emotions of the room were highly charged, and I was findin' it difficult to tell who was feeling what. I took in a calmin' breath to try and separate the overwhelmin' emotions from mah own, but it wasn't easy. I was bein' bombarded with fury, sadness, disbelief, sympathy, fear, guilt and so on and so forth. The emotions began to become too much for me and I found my breathin' rate increasing as I became more and more uncomfortable.

Alice, who sat right next to me noticed my increasin' uneasiness and gave me a concerned look. I gave her a strained smile, and she responded by grabbin' hold of my hand and sending me waves of love and tranquility. I happily accepted it, drinkin' in those emotions like a thirsty newborn. My muscles relaxed and the tension in my muscles began to seep out of me. Giving a relieved sigh I sent the love and tranquility right back to my wife. She smiled brightly as she leaned into me.

Still able to feel the tension amongst the rest of my family I sent my newfound calmness out to all but Carlisle. I was in no mood to be yelled at again, 'specially when Carlisle was in such a volatile state. As the atmosphere in the room began to settle down and I received grateful looks, I began to focus mah attention on the only person who did not merit from my gift. Papa was slouched in his chair, his head resting on one of his hands. His expression was completely emotionless, and his eyes dark. Being an empath though, he couldn't hide what he was feelin' from me, no matter how hard he tried at times. His emotions were like a damned rollercoaster, flickerin' from anger, to sorrow, to fear, and back to anger again.

My heart ached for my dad something fierce. He was hurtin' so badly over this memory and I was beginnin' to understand why. He had killed an innocent woman. I understood why, o' course, but knowing my dad I also understood why this cut him so deeply. The man abhorred violence and was the most compassionate person I'd ever met. These traits are what helped him become the only vampire in history who had never killed a human. To realize that he'd done so while he was human though obviously horrified him. He was furious at himself and most likely at his sadistic father. He felt guilty over what he'd done, hurt at how Samuel had treated him, and the fear was probably over what our reactions would be.

Aww Papa, I thought sadly, ya can't obviously think we'd look down on ya for this, do ya? I mean I've killed mah fair share of humans an' you've neva let me put myself down for that.

"We understand Dad," Edward finally spoke softly, his gaze full of sympathy.

"Do you?" Dad questioned emotionlessly.

"Samuel forced you to do this Carlisle," Esme declared firmly. "You have no reason to feel guilty—No, do not interrupt me," she ordered when Dad opened his mouth. "You did everything you could to save that woman's life. Samuel put you in an impossible situation. He backed you into a corner and you did the only thing you could do. You said so yourself there was nothing more you could do for Sarah, and that if you had not killed her yourself she would have died anyway but in a much more painful manner at the hands of those brutes."

"This doesn't change the way we look at you, Dad," Rosalie announced. "We know you're not a killer. What you did was merciful."

Dad lifted his head and looked towards us.

"I've killed more humans than ah can count Papa," I spoke softly with a tad bit of shame.

"We all have," Emmett added somberly.

"And ya never allow us to feel ashamed or guilty for those deaths even if they weren't accidental," I continued earnestly. "You tell us that we ain't monsters or killers and that"—

"That it is in our _vampire_ nature to want to kill humans," Dad interjected, and I fell silent noting right away what he was getting at. "Our very nature compels us to want to kill humans. Their blood entices us like no other," he spoke, pausing momentarily before adding, "But I was not a vampire. I was a human, a human who hunted down his own kind…I can't stop seeing her face. Right before I killed her she glared at me with such hatred and accusation, and now that's all I see. That, and her mutilated face. Have you ever seen what a gun does to a human's face when fired at close range?"

"You had no choice Carlisle!" Esme burst out in frustration. "Samuel was your father, the man who raised you, and he gave you no choice but to do as he told you to. He beat you into submission," she stated thickly, tears welling up in her eyes, "yet you fought him. You realized that he was wrong and you did everything you could to fight him; but you were a child Carlisle, and there was only so much that you alone could do. Stop beating yourself up, my love," Mom pleaded as she walked over and kneeled in front of Dad. She took his hands in hers and looked into his desolate face.

"You were awfully brave Dad," Alice spoke up. "I mean, even knowing what Samuel would do to you if you were caught, you continued to risk your safety in order to save lives."

"There was nothing more you could have done," Edward said gently. "No one can fault you for what happened."

"It was a tragedy," Rosalie remarked gently, "but you kept it from turning out so much worse. You kept her from suffering."

We all fell silent at this point, allowing Carlisle to absorb our words. I closely monitored his emotions and while I felt his gratitude and love for us increase, the guilt, anger, and fear did not dissipate. In fact, I realized with dismay and confusion, they increased in magnitude.

"Thank you," Carlisle eventually said thickly, his voice full of emotion. "I appreciate what you've said to me, but you think much too highly of me. You don't…you don't know the full story yet though…you don't know…," he trailed off with a sigh, releasing his hands from Mama's grasp before motioning for her to sit down. She did so with a sad sigh and much reluctance.

"What happened next then?" Emmett prodded hesitantly.

"Father sent Thomas and Frederick away with orders to dispose of Sarah's body," Papa stated. "I felt terrible and guilty, but that guilt quickly turned into fury. I blamed my father for what happened, and I just wanted to hurt him. I wanted him to feel some of the pain that I did." I felt the anger in my father steadily increasing, and I had to fight back the sudden urge to growl fiercely. I grinded my teeth, and let go of my Alice's hand so that I wouldn't hurt her. She stared at me with a worried expression but I just shook my head at her, focusing my full attention on our father.

"I ended up attacking him," Carlisle recounted in a biting tone. His teeth were bared slightly and there was a low growl rumbling in his chest.

"You _attacked_ your father?" Emmett asked him, his face aghast. Shock flooded the room once more as we all exchanged bewildered looks. Well, Papa sure was full of surprises today. It was almost like we didn't know the man as well as we thought we had; or I guess we didn't know how he used ta be. I always figured Dad was the same as a kid as he was now, but I guess I was wrong…_very_ wrong.

"Yes, I attacked him," Dad responded, and I flinched at the amount of viciousness in his voice.

We remained silent, wanting yet not wanting to know what happened next. There could be no happy ending to this. Either Dad lost and got the stuffin' knocked out o' him, or he won and he beat down his own father. Each scenario was awful ta imagine.

Dad tapped a finger against his leg, a nervous tick I realized as he then stated, "I held my own for a while, but was eventually overcome when Father grabbed the pistol I'd used to kill Sarah and struck me over the head with it. I fell to the ground, stunned, and he proceeded to beat me until I fell unconscious."

A furious hiss escaped from my lips at these words, and I clenched my fists so tightly my nails dug into my palms. The anger in the room reached new proportions, and it took all my willpower not to start growling and snarling. I wanted to project calm, but it was impossible when I felt anything but.

"I am uncertain of how long I remained unconscious, but when I awoke," Dad continued, oblivious to our reactions, "Father commenced with my punishment. He whipped me brutally, threatening to go after my close friends next if I dared cross him again. I have no idea when the punishment ended as I once more fell unconscious."

"Oh my god," Alice muttered, a sickened look on her face. There were tears cascading down her face so I wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close to me in an attempt to offer her comfort. Her body shook, not in sorrow but in absolute fury at what our father had suffered.

My siblings all shook with the same fury, while my mother sat absolutely still, a blank expression on her face. Her facade did not fool me though as I felt her rage and heartache.

My father stood up abruptly at this moment and began to pace around the room.

"I woke up a few hours later. Father had left me lying in the mud, the freezing cold rain beating down on me. I was in agonizing pain, but a hatred like none other had built up inside of me," Papa admitted, his anger lashing out about the room like a heated flame.

"I was _tired_ of all the abuse, the fear, and the senseless killing. I was _tired_ of people looking at me like I was some sort of monster; and I was _tired_ of being used!" Dad nearly shouted, extreme bitterness oozing from his every pore.

His words floored me as they were the same ones I had thought on many occasion when thinkin' of Maria. They were the same ones that eventually pushed me into leavin' her wretched army. I couldn't believe that Dad had thought them too. I suddenly felt an incredible amount of empathy and fondness towards my vampire father. I had discussed my past at length with him on a few occasions and he'd done a fabulous job at helping me deal with my incredible guilt an' self-hatred. I had wondered how he'd known all the right things ta say and eventually I'd just chalked it up to it just being a Carlisle thing, but now I knew better. Now I knew that Dad had suffered as I had, and that tore through me like a hot knife. I all too easily remembered the pain, fear, hurt, and anger I'd felt as a vampire soldier in Maria's army; so to know that Carlisle had felt the same, as a child no less, and as a child who was being hurt by his own god forsaken father was heart wrenching! He'd grown up without love, made ta feel like he'd neva be worth anything by the man who shoulda cherished and loved him most.

"I did something…I did something wrong," Dad confessed, his voice quivering slightly, and I immediately noticed as some of the hot anger began leavin' him only ta be replaced with shame.

"What did you do, darling?" Esme asked softly, trepidation clear in her tone. She eyed her husband in sadness and wariness.

Dad let out a shaky breath as he turned his body towards her. "I tried to kill him," he told us hoarsely.

I leaned back into the sofa, somehow not surprised. I could empathize with how he felt, and lord knows I certainly considered killin' Maria more than a time or two.

"What do you mean by _tried_?" my Alice pressed in a near whisper. Dad turned his gaze towards her, and I felt her stiffen slightly at becoming the center of his attention. I wrapped a protective arm around her, not really believing I needed to protect her, but because Dad didn't realize how intimidating he looked right now. I'd never seen him look so much, well, so much like a vampire.

"I mean that it was only due to a foolish mistake that the bastard survived," he answered, the barest trace of embarrassment coursing through him. "I took a pistol, managed to make it all the way home and onto the front porch when my legs gave out. I grabbed onto a wooden post to pull myself up, and looking through the window I saw the blasted pillock sitting at the table eating like _nothing_ had happened! Like he had not just watched an innocent woman be murdered! Like he had not just beat his son into unconsciousness twice before leaving him to die in the rain! Overcome with fury I lifted the pistol and pulled the trigger."

Christ, he actually pulled the trigger?! How in tarnations did that old devil survive? Did Dad only wound him?

"Son of a bit—I mean gun!" Emmett exclaimed in shock. "And he didn't die? Did you miss?"

"No, the gun never went off," our father replied acerbically. "Wet gun powder," he explained upon noting our raised eyebrows. "A novice mistake," he added with a disgusted shake of his head, "but I suppose I was a tad bit distraught and in pain and not quite thinking clearly."

I gave a snort at how casually he spoke, furrowing my brow when I felt a conflicting emotion. It seemed that while he felt incredibly guilty for what he had done, there was a smidgen of regret and bitterness in him and I wondered if that was because he had failed in killing his father.

"Do you wish it had gone off?" Edward managed to ask, and I gave the boy props for sheer guts. I certainly wanted to know the answer, but not badly enough to ask it, especially after seein' the terrible look Dad just gave him.

"What exactly are you implying Edward?" Dad snapped, his eyes turning pitch black as he took a threatening step towards the boy.

"Carlisle, enough!" Mama Bear called out sharply, and Dad whirled around ta glare at her.

"You need to _calm down_," Mom ordered fiercely, giving the man a hard look. She turned to me next, and I immediately stiffened at the look on her face. She softened her expression though as she said, "I give you permission to use your gift on Carlisle, sweetheart, so please calm him down."

My eyes widened at her request, widening even more when I heard the terrible snarl my father let out as he openly glared at Mom. I unconsciously found myself standing up, my brothers mirroring my moves as we watched the sudden stare down between our parents. Dad's glare was furious and there was a constant growl rumbling in his chest, but Mom glared back without fear. I exchanged nervous glances with my brothers, unsure of whether or not we should interfere. I was certain Dad wouldn't harm Mom, but I didn't like one bit the way he was glarin' at her, and I specially didn't like the way he was growlin' at her. A man was sposed ta treat his wife with the utmost respect and this was anythin' but.

It seemed though that we wouldn't need ta interfere when after a few minutes of glaring at one another Dad's stopped growling and took a few steps away from Mom.

"Woah," Emmett gasped none too quietly, and all I could do was nod my head in agreement. What the hell just happened? Dad's face was completely unreadable, but thankfully with my gift I could tell that he was desperately trying, and failing to regain his composure.

"Jasper," Dad suddenly called, and I froze before hesitantly responding, "Yes sir?"

"Would you be so kind as to assist me?" he asked stiffly, his eyes riveted on the wall opposite from him.

"Of course Papa," I replied in relief before focusing my gift on him. It was more difficult than usual seeing as I wasn't feeling very calm, and Dad wasn't exactly helpin' himself either. He was actually fightin' my influence, but eventually though his emotions began to settle down, the tension in his neck and jaw relaxing. He closed his eyes momentarily, letting out a small sigh before looking at me.

"Thank you son," he spoke sincerely, sending a dose of love my way which caused me to smile.

"Don't mention it," I responded with a playful wink, but I did not even elicit the barest of smiles. I continued to exert my influence on him because I could feel a strong sense of self-hatred and guilt trying to take over. It was mentally tiring for me, but better than the alternative. I think we'd all had enough of Carlisle's anger to last a lifetime or two.

"Edward, I am sorry for snapping at you," Papa apologized looking utterly defeated. "I-I lost my temper," he confessed, his eyes momentarily flickering towards Mom with a good amount of trepidation, "and I have no excuse. I just…talking about all of this…" Dad let out a frustrated sigh, gripping a fistful of his hair as he paced around a little.

"Dad, it's okay, I under"—Edward began to reassure him, but he was cut off by both our parents exclaiming, "No it's not!" Mom was giving Dad a stormy glare right now and I was astonished at the sudden nervousness coming from Dad. He stared at Mom with a look full of apology and shame, and although she maintained her angry façade I could feel the anger seeping out of her as the seconds ticked by. I could tell she had forgiven him, but she didn't let him know that. Instead she just jerked her head towards Edward, giving Dad a pointed look. He apparently got the picture because he turned towards my brother who was staring at both our parents with wide eyes.

"I was wrong to overreact, son," Dad spoke remorsefully, starin' at not only him but at everyone one of us. "I owe you all an apology. I have been acting like a moody teenager, lashing out at all of you when you have only been trying to help me. My father," he grimaced, pausing a moment before saying, "_Samuel_ always brought out the worst in me, and it seems even after being dead for a few centuries he still has as strong a hold on me as when he was alive," he admitted, giving us all a grin that did not reach his eyes. He rubbed the back of his neck, actually emitting a soft laugh.

I frowned at his attempt to fool us, knowing full well from his emotions that he was feeling absolutely no humor at this situation. I felt for my father, I really did. Here he was bein' put on the spot, forced to relive memories he would rather forget in front of the entire family. He was mentally and emotionally beat, barely holdin' himself together. He wanted to appear strong in front of us, but he didn't have to. He was always tellin' us we didn't always have to be strong, and that when amongst family we should neva be afraid of letting our guard down. I guess Dad had trouble with this just like me and my brothers.

I felt empathy and sympathy build in the room, which revealed that everyone else was havin' similar feelings ta me. Looking around at the others I could tell they all wanted to help Dad but didn't know what to do or say. Even Mom looked unsure of herself.

"To answer your question, Edward," Dad stated, his voice pained and nearly a whisper, "Yes, there is still a part of me that wishes that gun had gone off." All eyes once more became riveted on Carlisle, and emotions varied. There was disbelief, concern, understanding, sadness, and pity.

Papa stared at us expectantly, anxiously tapping his fingers against his right leg. He was obviously awaiting our opinions, but it didn't look as though anyone was ready to speak yet, so his anxiety increasing he began to speak again.

"I know it's not what you expect, but I have told you all countless times that I am far from perfect," he attempted to explain. "The more memories I recall, the worse that _man_," he growled "becomes. He tried to turn me into a ruthless murderer like himself and he nearly succeeded. He hurt me more than you could ever imagine, both physically and emotionally. I was tired of all the fear and the pain, and you cannot—you cannot imagine what it was like to be _hated_ by your own father," he exclaimed emotionally. "He was everything to me, _everything_. I wanted to be just like him. I wanted to make him proud. I wanted him to tell me he loved me, and that I was not a failure or a disappointment. I wanted him to tell me that my mother's death was not my fault, but he—but he…," Papa trailed off, breathing heavily as an incredibly pained look crossed his face.

The anguish in the room increased, and I could not fight it as I too was overcome. The women all had tears streaming down their faces, and I myself could feel tears welling up in my eyes at the sheer magnitude of agony in my father's voice. Mom was covering her mouth with her hand, and she looked to be at war with herself. She obviously wanted to comfort Dad, but she also knew that he had to get this off his chest. She had to let him finish, no matter how upsetting this was for us to hear.

"He failed me in every way possible," Dad was eventually able to continue, his voice incredibly hoarse. "The things he said to me no father should _ever_ say to their child…but he had no heart!" Dad hissed savagely. "He belittled me constantly, always reminding me of how worthless and idiotic I was. I was weak, cowardly, and inept in his eyes. _Nothing_ I did was ever right or good enough for him. I was a disgrace and a burden." Dad's breathing increased even more, his anger and hurt constantly building, battling each other for dominance. I attempted to help him, but found instead that his emotions were influencing me more than the other way around.

"He detested the very sight of me. I was constantly being punished for any supposed wrong doing. He actually told me after the incident with Sarah that he wished he'd killed me the day I was born," Dad recalled hollowly, his eyes turning increasingly haunted. "What kind of father would say that to their own son? What kind of father would point a pistol at their son's head and threaten to pull the trigger if they did not do as they said?" Dad shook his head disbelievingly. "_What_ did I do? _What_ could I have possible done to have deserved his ire?" he questioned out loud, glancing at us as though hoping we would have the answer. "I _hated_ him so much…I still do, because he still continues to hurt me. He still holds power over me. Do I wish I had killed him that day? Yes and no. The traumatized boy in me still yearns for vengeance, but the man in me knows that killing him would not have changed a thing. Killing is not in my nature, and I would have only resented myself even more in the end."

**A/N: **Kind of an abrupt ending, but this is the first half of what was originally a VERY long chapter. Another heavily angst-filled chapter, but things will begin to look up next chapter. PLEASE REVIEW!


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Twilight

**Chapter 18: Light**

**Carlisle's POV:**

I fell silent, my heart heavy from all that I had confessed, and I absentmindedly rubbed at my chest. The more I spoke of Samuel the more I was able to recall, and the easier it became for all these old, buried feelings to reassert themselves. I stared down at my family's faces and saw anger, sadness, and pity as they stared back at me. My wife and daughters were actually crying, and my heart ached as I knew I was the cause. My boys on the other hand looked downright murderous, their jaws stiff and their fists clenched, bodies tensed as though ready for a fight.

Feeling restless I once more began to pace the small length between my chair and the wall, well aware of their gazes on me. I eventually stopped, leaning against the wall before slowly sliding down and situating myself on the floor.

I felt raw and vulnerable, weak and helpless. I felt like a child again, and I _hated_ it. I could feel myself trembling, and that just made me even angrier. I gave myself a mental smack, chiding myself for the complete lack of control I had been exhibiting. I had said more than I should have. None of my family was speaking. They were just staring at me with _pity_. I did not want their pity. I did not deserve their pity. Why would they not speak? Why were they so silent?

I could hear my shaky breathing, a result of all the heavy emotions I was feeling. I was breaking. There were so many cracks in me right now that a mere gust of wind could shatter me. I did not want to break, but I was finding it increasingly difficult to bring up my mask, my protection. I was afraid.

I had said more than I should have, I knew it. None of them were speaking. They must be upset with me. Why did I not keep my mouth shut? I knew I should not have said anything!

I gritted my teeth angrily, and glared down at the floor. I should not have let them convince me to talk. They obviously were not prepared for what I had to say. I should have kept silent. I was such a damned fool! An idiot! Now they must hate me. I knew it. I knew I was unworthy of love. Father was right. He was always right. I was just a failure, a pathetic disappointment.

My heart grew heavier at my morbid thoughts, and I closed my eyes tightly, fighting against the tears that were threatening to fall. Stop being so bloody weak, I scolded myself harshly. And enough with the self pity as you brought this all on yourself. You have no one to blame but yourself so man up and quit acting like some sniveling child!

My eyes burst open at these familiar words. How often had my father uttered them to me, and yet now I had uttered them all on my own. The shock had startled me out of my moment of self-loathing.

Did I really believe these words? Did I really believe my family hated me? Did I really believe I was a failure and disappointment?

No, of course not…but…

I felt at war with myself. The boy in me was arguing with the three century old vampire, and unfortunately the boy was winning. He had been winning all weekend. I massaged my temples, somehow feeling as though I were suffering from a headache. I was tired, _so_ tired I could feel it in my very bones. I wanted relief, and I was ashamed to admit it, but I wanted comfort. I didn't want to be strong right now. I wanted to let the last bit of my guard down, but I was afraid. I was afraid of what would happen if I let the last bit of my control go.

"Carlisle, love, will you please look at me," my wife called out gently, and I slowly turned and lifted wary eyes towards her. She slowly got up out of her chair and came down to sit across from me. The kids were quick to follow, Emmett dragging along all his pillows as they situated themselves around me. I gave them all cautious looks, unsure of what they were going to say to me. They did not look upset, but with the way I was feeling right now I did not trust my observational skills at the moment.

I felt a hand grab a hold of mine and I rapidly flicked my eyes to Esme, whose face was a mask of concern, understanding, and love. I gave her hand a small squeeze, offering her a small smile. Her expression lightened the tiniest bit, but I could still see the tension she was feeling. I had her greatly concerned.

Deciding I should not be cowardly, I took the bull by the horns as I outright asked, "Are you angry with me?" I watched as Esme's expression turned bewildered before noting the same change of expression in all the kids. Emmett's mouth actually fell open he was so surprised by my question. I guess that answered that, I thought somewhat relieved. Before they could say anything though I then asked, "Are you disappointed in me for the things I did?"

Various shouts of "No!", "Of course not," and "How could you think that?" were heard around the room, and I actually let out a short laugh I was so relieved. I was being ridiculous. Of course they would not hate me. Why did I rile myself up so badly? Why did I think so negatively?

"Carlisle Cullen, _what_ is going through that bull-headed brain of yours?" Esme exclaimed, running a hand through my hair causing me to once more stare into her golden eyes. They were full of exasperation, frustration, and confusion.

"Do ya really think we'd look down on ya fer what happened?" Jasper asked me, his voice full of concern.

"Jeez Pops, if anything we think more highly of you than we did before," Emmett remarked, giving me a dimpled smile.

"But why?" I responded uncomprehendingly. "How could _anything _that I did be viewed as-as…," I trailed off with a shake of my head.

Emmett's expression turned sympathetic as he stated, "You really don't get it, do you? You're always telling us that we don't see ourselves clearly, but here you are doing just that."

I frowned lightly before Alice began to speak. "I can't even imagine what your life must have been like, Dad," she commented, her voice and face full of sadness. "Every time I hear something about your human life I just want to hunt down Samuel and hurt him for what he did to you, and what he still does to you. He hurt you so badly. He tore you down in every way possible yet you never let him win. You never let him break you."

"I am not quite sure that's true, Alice," I interjected. "I did try to kill him, and there were times that I just wished I had never existed. There were times I pushed him intentionally to the brink in the hopes that he would just end my miserable existence." I looked down at my lap, ashamed over what I had admitted.

"You persevered though," Rosalie commented softly. "You suffered, and you fell down into a dark hole a time or two, but you always pulled yourself out. You had no one there to help you, yet you still turned out so…_so good_. Dad, you have no idea how amazing you are. You won, don't you see? You proved Samuel wrong in every way and you became a better man than he could have ever hoped to be."

I stared at my daughter, taken aback by her bold statements. I was still conflicted though. Why did they think so highly of me? "I am not as good as you"—

"For crying out loud Dad!" Edward interrupted sharply. "Will you quit being so darn stubborn? Do you really think we'd all lie to you about something like this? Look into our eyes if you don't believe us. You're great at reading us so I'm sure you'd be able to tell if we were lying." I looked at my son, and clearly saw the frustration he was feeling with me. Staring deep into his eyes I searched for any hint of deception but saw none. I was still reluctant to believe what was being said to me though.

"Why are you so hard on yourself?" he questioned exasperatedly. "Why do you continue to let Samuel tear you down? You've got to know that everything he told you was a lie, right?"

"I-I don't know," I whispered dejectedly.

"Yes you do," Esme declared, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. I gave her a slightly pleading look, asking that she not make me discuss this anymore, but she gave me a small shake of the head as she quietly said, "Talk to them Carlisle and let them help you. You are not alone anymore and you do not need to deal with this on your own. You have a family that loves you and wants nothing more than to see you happy. You hurt when we hurt, and the same is true in return. Please, _please_ let down your walls and let us in, I beg you. You cannot shut us out because in the end you will not only be harming yourself, but us as well."

I bit my lip at that thought before letting out a mild groan. Let down my guard, she said. Let us help you, she said. She made it sound so easy, but it wasn't! I had never truly let down my guard since I was a young boy. I learned very early how to protect myself, and how to put on a mask. To tear down those walls would leave me completely vulnerable.

"We ain't gonna hurt you Papa," Jasper spoke up, placing a hesitant hand on my knee before he sent me waves of tranquility and love. "Ya can trust us as we trusted you with our painful memories."

I happily accepted his gift, soaking up the positive emotions like a dry sponge. My muscles began to loosen up, and my breathing became easier. I gave my empathic son a grateful look, and he nodded his head, keeping his hand on my knee.

"Moms right Dad," Edward said kindly. "We just want to help you. You have no reason to be ashamed, guilty, or scared of what happened. You did the best you could with the situation you were dealt."

I gave Edward a sad look as I shook my head in disagreement. "No son, I didn't. I allowed my fear and my childish desire for affection to cloud my judgment and control me. I was Samuel's tool,"—

"Arrgh!" Rosalie interjected angrily throwing his arms up in frustration. "Are you even listening to yourself Dad?" he exclaimed incredulously. "Do you even hear the words coming out of your mouth?"

I gave Rosalie a startled look, caught off guard by her sudden ire. "What do you mean?" I asked warily.

"I mean you sound like a hypocrite!" she accused with a glare. "Is anything you told us true, or are you just a liar?"

I reeled in shock at her accusations, feeling both hurt and offended. "No, of course not!" I protested. "I would never lie to any of you."

She scoffed in disbelief, and I quickly noticed that she wasn't the only one. Her siblings were sporting similar expressions. I quickly flicked my eyes towards Esme, but found her expression to be impassive as she stared at our blonde-haired daughter. Did she agree with her?

"Could have fooled me," Rosalie responded coolly, crossing her arms across her chest.

"When have I lied to you?" I demanded, doing the best I could to keep the heat out of my voice. I did not appreciate her accusations in the slightest. I was always honest with my family, _always_! Having grown up keeping so many secrets and telling so many lies I did not want to have to do that with my own family so honesty was a big thing to me, especially considering all the deception we partook in to keep our existence a secret.

"When I finally confessed to you the guilt I felt over having murdered R-Royce and his wretched friends you told me I wasn't a bad person," Rosalie told me bitterly, glaring at me with angry eyes I had not seen since her first year of this life when she absolutely loathed me. "You told me what I did was understandable, and that the guilt I felt just showed that I was a good person and that I had a heart. I thought I was a horrible monster, but you convinced me otherwise. Was all that a lie?" She spat out, and I flinched, horrified by her accusation.

"She ain't the only one you've lied to," Jasper added, his face a mask of anger and hurt. He was breathing heavily, his teeth slightly bared, and Alice wrapped her arms around her mate as she tried to soothe him. "You told me that I wasn't a monster fer everything that I had done with Maria. You told me I had nuthin' to be ashamed or guilty of because I had been manipulated and used. Ya told me my scars were nuthin' to be ashamed of and-and…," he stopped speaking, apparently too overcome with emotion.

"You told me I shouldn't be ashamed to appear weak or vulnerable," Emmett spoke up, his voice tinged with more hurt than anger. "You told me it was okay to ask for help, but now it doesn't look like you really meant any of that."

"I killed so many people," Edward then brought up, his tone incredibly pained. "I killed so many people, but you told me it was okay. You told me I shouldn't feel guilty. You told me I wasn't a soulless beast for what I had done, but did you really mean that?"

"Yes, of course I did! I have _never_ lied to any of you!" I asserted, leaning forward with an earnest look. I barely contained a wince at the sharp pain in my backside was reignited with that simple movement. I stared from one distrustful face to another, reeling at how they could think such a thing of me. I glanced over at Esme with a good amount of trepidation, and winced at the disapproving look she was gracing me with. She raised an eyebrow at me and I realized dishearteningly that I would be receiving no help from her. She was leaving me to face the children's ire all on my own.

"Then why Dad?" Alice piped up, and I immediately turned my head towards her. She had no accusation in her tone, but her eyes were beseeching me. She wanted an explanation. "Why aren't you listening to us? Why can't you forgive yourself? Why is what is true for us not true for you?" I opened and closed my mouth, feeling at a complete loss for words. I didn't know what to say. I didn't know how to explain what was wrong with me. I wasn't sure I completely understood why I was being so obstinate.

"Why do you believe what that horrible man said to you over us?" Alice pressed urgently. "We love you Daddy, we have proved that to you over and over, but right now it seems as though you've forgotten that." Alice pursed her lips, staring at me in disappointment.

I felt shame well up in me, and I could not help but look away from my daughter's concerned gaze. _Why_ was I acting like this? Why was I behaving like a-a-a _child_?! This was so bloody frustrating! What was wrong with me? I clenched my teeth, burying my head in my hands and gripping my hair tightly. Tears prickled at my eyes, but I held them at bay with extreme difficulty.

"Dad," Alice prompted very quietly, placing her small hand on my leg.

I took in a shaky breath, putting a small smile on my face before looking up. "I'm sorry," I told them miserably. "I can see how much I am confusing and frustrating you, and I…," I swallowed thickly, trying to decide what to say. "I have never lied to you," I declared quietly yet fiercely, pinning them all with an intense stare. "I meant every word I have ever told you. None of you are monsters. None of you are weak, and none of you have any reason to be ashamed by your pasts. I shouldn't either," I was able to admit, giving a small, humorless chuckle, "but…but I cannot help it."

I paused once more, and reached out a hand towards Esme. I was immensely pleased when I saw her face soften as she took my hand. She moved herself so that she was sitting right next to me, and I reveled in the comfort and strength her simple touch provided me with.

"As a human I was constantly degraded by my father and made to feel lower than dirt. When I became a vampire my choices made me an outcast. I was looked down upon, considered a freak or an interesting anomaly if you asked Aro. I had no one to tell me differently. I was alone for so long," I whispered, absentmindedly rubbing at my chest as the old hollowness I had felt came back to me. Esme quickly placed her hand atop of mine though, giving it a tender caress as the children all scooted themselves closer to me so that each one of them was touching me in some manner. I was sincerely touched by their actions, and it took me a few moments to overcome the sudden lump I felt in my throat.

"You guys are the best thing that has ever happened to me," I was finally able to say. "_Never_ in a million years would have I imagined myself as a part of a family. _Never_ did I imagine that there would be people out there who could love me." I chuckled once more as I gave a disbelieving shake of my head. "Even now I still do not always understand how I have been so blessed as to have deserved all of you, but I have long since stopped asking. Each and every one of you mean the world to me, and you have _no_ idea how much I love you."

"I think we do," Jasper drawled with a slight smirk, and I returned it with a slight head bow in acknowledgment to his gift.

"Perhaps you do," I responded softly as Esme wrapped an arm around my waist. I turned towards her and leaned forward so that our foreheads were touching. I inhaled her scent, somehow finding it more calming than Jasper's ability.

"The pastor was wrong," Esme whispered firmly. "You should listen to our children for they know you far better than Samuel Cullen ever did." I frowned lightly at her words before looking once more towards my children who were all sporting solemn expressions so unlike themselves. I could still see a good amount of hurt and anger that they had been feeling, but it was muted by concern and yes, muted even by their love for me. Words could not describe the emotions I felt at that simple thought.

"If you've never lied to us, then anything you've told us is true for you too so quit being such a stubborn jackass," Rosalie declared, giving me a mild glare that just dared me to argue with her simple logic.

"Rosalie Lilian! Do not"—Esme began to scold, but I raised my hand to cut her off. "It's alright, my love," I assured her with a smile before staring at my kitten who was sporting a haughty expression.

"Carlisle," my wife made to argue, "they should not be allowed to speak to you that way." I saw her throw a glare at Rose who shifted uncomfortably, no doubt unnerved by her mother's stern gaze.

"Esme," I called, gaining her attention, "it is fine." She narrowed her eyes at me in confusion as I turned back towards the kids. "You are welcome to say whatever you want to me without fear of consequence," I announced.

"Within reason," my wife added, giving me a stern look when I went to argue with her. I just rolled my eyes before wincing when she jabbed an elbow into my side. I threw her an affronted look, but she just stared back with a raised eyebrow. I huffed as I looked away from her, biting back a grumble when I noticed the poorly concealed smirks and twinkles of amusement my _precious_ children were all sporting.

"You're all gits," I eventually decided to say, wincing once more when I felt another jab from my lovely wife as she shouted out an appalled, "Carlisle Cullen! What did you just call the children?"

I massaged my side, throwing her a wounded look as I unashamedly answered, "I called them gits."

I heard several snorts and a few chuckles, the kids no doubt marveling at my brazenness with their mother. Esme opened her mouth, and I thought she was going to give me an earful but she instead asked, "What does that even mean?"

When I overcame my surprise I could not help but to start laughing, only to instantly fall silent the moment my wife's gaze turned fiery. My children on the other hand felt no need to smother their mirth as they openly laughed at the situation I had landed myself in.

"_Carlisle_," Esme pressed, leaning closer to me as I unsuccessfully attempted to lean away. There was no way I was going to tell her what that word meant if she did not already know.

"How about I just say I am deeply sorry and we call it a day," I suggested, giving her a charming grin before attempting to get up. I was thwarted though by not only her pulling me down by the waistband of my pants, but by Edward, Emmett, and Jasper who sat me back down with firm hands pushing down on my shoulders.

My mind went blank momentarily and I fought back a yelp when my much abused backside roughly hit the hardwood floor. Bloody hell, I thought as I froze in place. Oblivious to my apparent pain, Esme boldly stated, "You are not going anywhere, my dear husband until _I_ declare this conversation over with, so you might as well make yourself comfortable. Is that understood?"

I swallowed, giving a stiff nod before exhaling as the brunt of the pain passed. All that was left was a dull throb.

Glancing about the room it became quite obvious to me that my children understood what had just happened if their knowing gazes were anything to go by. They said nothing though, which I was immensely grateful for.

"Dad," Edward eventually said, "do you trust us?"

"Of course I do," I answered promptly.

"Do you trust yourself?" he then asked, and I froze momentarily before slowly giving a nod.

"You don't seem so sure," Emmett commented dryly.

"I do," I declared in a strong voice. "I do trust myself."

Edward nodded his head, and I waited, curious as to what he was getting at. "I've known you longer than anyone here, Dad," he remarked, "and in all these years I have never seen you as out of sorts as right now. The closest I've ever seen you to like this would be when you had that flashback of Ariana."

I frowned, furrowing my brow as I gave him a single nod in agreement. Yes, I too felt I had not been anywhere near this, uh, upset since that incident either.

"I thought I had managed to help you overcome your fears of becoming just like Samuel, but I was wrong," my little man stated. "You just buried the memory and moved on. That's what you've always done, isn't it? You've never dealt with the abuse you suffered, both mental and physical. You just buried it deep inside you, content to just pretend it never happened." He spoke his words gently, but with utter certainty, letting me know that I needn't bother arguing.

"Why?" Edward asked aloud. "Why did you not confide in us? Why did you not let us help you? Every single one of us has come to you for help with our pasts, so why don't you feel you can do the same?"

"Do ya feel you've done worse things than any of us?" Jasper pressed. "I was part of a vampire army for god's sake. I killed countless vampires _and_ humans!"

"And if you're going to argue that Jasper was forced or compelled by his nature, then what of me?" Rosalie argued hotly. "No one forced me to kill those men who hurt me. I killed them not out of need or thirst but out of a desire for revenge. You went after Samuel for the same reason, but unlike me you didn't succeed." Rosalie sported a bitter smile before she then said, "And I'm willing to bet you never tried again, did you?"

"I, uh…," I trailed off, not knowing the answer to her question. Was that the last time I tried to kill Father?

"Go ahead," Rose encouraged. "Close your eyes and try and remember."

"I don't…I cannot afford to relive anymore painful memories," I protested weakly, sending my daughter a pleading look.

Her hard gaze softened a fraction before she said, "I know this is difficult for you, but I think it will help. Did you ever try to kill him again?"

I looked down uncertainly before looking towards Esme for support. "Go on Carlisle," she urged, brushing a strand of hair away from my eyes. "It will be just fine."

"You're not alone Dad," Alice stated, nudging me with her shoulder and giving me a bright smile.

"Yeah Pops, we're here for you," Emmett added as Edward and Jasper nodded their heads in agreement. "If any bad memories pop up we'll kick their asses."

I couldn't help but laugh quietly at his absurd statement, my heart warming at this touching display from my family.

"Okay," I agreed, taking in a deep breath and closing my eyes. I gripped onto my mates hand tightly, unable to control the slight trembling of my body. I was scared. I didn't want to remember anymore. I didn't want to find out if I'd ever attempted to kill Father again because I was afraid the answer would be 'yes'.

"Come on Papa, no need to be afraid. We'll be with ya every step o' the way," Jasper reassured, sending me a wave of calm and courage. I gratefully accepted his help, finally allowing all my mental barriers to fall. I focused on my human memories and searched for anything I could remember revolving around my father.

I grimaced when several more unpleasant bonding moments with my dearest father passed through my mind, but none were as horrible as the incident with Sarah. My relationship with Father had become irreparable, we both knew that. He knew he would never be able to make me like him. He knew he would never be able to trust me. It did not stop him from trying though, but things were not what they used to be.

The people of London did not react well to Sarah's unplanned execution. She had been well liked by many, and there had apparently been a whole group of people who had been prepared to argue for her innocence. When word spread she had been killed, there was a bit of an uproar, especially after the idiotic prick Thomas drunkenly let slip the exact details of her death. A lot of people had begun to question my father's effectiveness after that incident. Many said he was growing too old, and that he had been doing this so long he saw evil beings everywhere. Even though I had been the one to pull the trigger Father was still seen as the one at fault since Thomas had made it very clear that I had been forced to kill the woman. Father was sent on less hunts after that, his power beginning to dwindle not only over others, but me as well. I grew older, stronger, wiser, and more courageous. I will admit, I pushed him on purpose quite often, and the less power he had the more we butted heads. We got into a few more fights over the years, he only winning the first couple. When I was 21 I finally was able to best him, and that was the last time I ever allowed the man to lay a hand on me. He of course attempted to beat me a few more times, but I thwarted him every time. I was finally stronger than him, and I used that to my advantage.

I let out a breath, opening my eyes to see six pairs of eyes fixated on me. I released the tight hold I had on my wife and ran my hand through my hair.

"I never tried to kill my father again," I stated, pausing momentarily before informing my family of what I had remembered.

"Told you," Rosalie remarked with a smirk, and I gave a nod of acknowledgment in her direction. "Killing or hurting people is not in your nature Dad. Anyone who spends even five minutes with you knows that. The fact that Samuel tried to change that, and that he looked down on you for it is just wrong and sad."

"You've said he tried so hard to change you Carlisle," Esme spoke up, "but you fought him all the way. It was not easy, and it most definitely was not without its hardships, but you succeeded. You look down on yourself because you wanted to hurt Samuel, and because of the fights you got into with him, but darling, we do not. These struggles only make you more human to us."

"Yes, but I still should not have let my temper get the better of me," I retorted weakly, but Esme just shook her head at me.

"You are looking at these events through the eyes of a young man, not a three century old vampire. You were a boy, an extremely abused boy when these events took place. You made mistakes, but mistakes that are more than understandable given the circumstances; and that are more than forgivable."

I absorbed her words, wanting to believe her but still feeling a sprinkle of doubt. "Would you still say the same had I succeeded in actually killing my father?"

"Yes," she responded with absolute certainty. "Samuel pushed you into a corner and you reacted. He broke you in every way possible, Carlisle, and he sought to use you to achieve his goals. Killing is never the answer, but I can understand why you felt it was. You were furious, hurt, and traumatized by what had occurred; and you lashed out. I am happy you did not succeed, but only because I know the guilt you would have carried."

"Look at it this way Pops," Emmett mentioned, "if my human father had treated me the same way yours did would you look down on me for getting in a fight with him or if I tried to kill him?"

I grimaced at the question, not at all liking the thought of imagining any of children suffering as I had. "Of course not," I answered without hesitation, "I would be unhappy that you felt you'd needed to resort to such measures, but not unhappy with you, just at the situation."

"You wouldn't look down on us, be angry, or disappointed?" Emmett pressed.

I looked the boy full in the eye as I gave a single shake of my head and strongly said, "Absolutely not."

A slow grin spread across Emmett's face as he nodded his head. "Well," he spoke, gesturing his hand out towards me, "There you go."

I stared at my boy uncomprehendingly for a moment before I finally understood what just happened. Huh. Esme was absolutely right when she said I had been looking at my past with the eyes of my young self. I was looking at my memories through spectacles clouded with pain and anger. Looking at my past through the eyes of a father, however, it was beginning to become clear. By separating myself from the memories and looking at them through this new perspective I found it easier to see that I had no reason to feel such guilt. By imagining one of my children in my place, acting as I had it became all too easy to see that the one responsible—that the _only_ one who should feel guilt was my father. Why had this been so difficult for me to realize?

Leaning my head back against the wall I rubbed a hand over my face before smiling. "I am an ignorant, stubborn fool," I declared with a rueful shake of my head. A few snorts were heard as the occupants of the room gave me amused and curious looks. Smiling even more widely at them I threw Emmett a teasing look as I remarked, "I must be really messed up if Emmett is talking sense into me."

Laughter was immediately heard as Emmett cried out, "Hey! I can be smart!"

"Course ya can Em, even a blind bird finds food," Jasper joked, his eyes bright with mischief. More laughter was heard as the atmosphere immediately lightened and the tension that had been so suffocating nearly evaporated.

Esme snuggled up more closely to me, giving me a soft kiss on the cheek. I nuzzled her face, staring into her loving eyes before turning and staring at each one of my kids in turn. Emmett sported a wide, dimpled smile, and Rose wore a haughty expression, although I could see the love in her eyes. Jasper had a small, kind smile as Alice grinned brightly and Edward shot me a familiar, crooked grin. I felt an upsurge of emotions, my throat constricting tightly as tears blurred my vision.

Samuel had been the only blood relative that I had ever known, but he had _never_ been family. He had never been my father. He did not deserve the title. He was—_had_ been my tormentor; but he was long dead now. He could not hurt me anymore…He _should not_ hurt me anymore. I had allowed his mere memory to haunt me—to hurt me for far too long and that had to stop now. I was not a hurt and confused boy anymore yearning for his father's affections. I was a grown man with 300 years of experience under my belt, and I was a father myself.

I would never understand Samuel. I would never understand why he made the choices he had or why he treated me so horribly. What I did know was that I was not at fault. Like Jasper I had been manipulated and used. The fact that it was my own father doing it, I admit was terribly depressing but such was life. I needed to stop dwelling on my past: the abuse and trauma I had suffered, the horrors I had participated in, the mistakes I had made. Our experiences shaped who we were, but that did not mean we needed to let those experiences consume us or dictate what we did. I would never forget of course, but it was time to let go. It was time to accept what happened and move on. It was time to acknowledge the tragedy but to not let it define me, and to not let it loom over me like a constant dark cloud.

I was not my father. I was not a murderer. I was not a cruel man who delighted in holding power over others. I loved my family with all my heart. They were my source of my strength. They kept me going, and they made this life worth living. I was not alone anymore. I did not need to depend only on myself. I did not need to shield myself. I trusted them, and they would not hurt me. As I would always be there for them, they would always be there for me because that was what families did.

A breath hitched in my throat. It should not have taken so long for me to realize this. It should not have taken such a drastic event to push me into finally opening up to my family. I had been a fool, a hard-headed old fool. I had acted like a rebellious teenager these past few days, and I had put my family in a position they should never have had to take. My wife had been forced to physically chastise me like some errant child, and she along with my kids had been unfortunate enough to be on the receiving end of several childish bouts of anger. Yet they stood by me. They continued to argue and defend me from my cantankerous self despite how ill received their initial attempts were. I was rather certain I did not deserve the love of these wonderful people, but whether I did or not was irrelevant as I had their love regardless.

A few tears finally managed to escape, the emotions of the past few days overcoming me once more. I lowered my head and reached up a hand to cover my eyes. While I knew I had no reason to hide my emotions I still could not help but feel embarrassed. I took several shaky breaths and tried to curl into myself, bringing my knees up to my chest, but Esme would have none of that.

"Come here Carlisle, come here. Shhh my love, all is well," Esme murmured warmly into my ear as she gently brought my head towards her shoulder as a few more tears began to escape.

"I'm sorry," I spoke thickly, my English accent more evident than ever.

"You have nothing to apologize for," she responded kindly as she caressed the back of my head. My shoulders began to shake at this point, and I heard Esme's quiet sigh before she wrapped both her arms around me.

"Just let it out Carlisle, I've got you. Let it all out for I will not let you fall," Esme declared passionately, her hold on me strong.

"_We_ won't let you fall," Edward stated just as zealously as his mother; and with those words I felt five more pair of arms work their way around me. They held me up as I finally allowed myself to cry. We sat huddled together long after I had regained control of myself and I found myself loving each and every one of them more than I had ever felt possible. I had grown up not knowing what love or family was, but no more. Now I had a beautiful, compassionate wife and five wonderful, caring children who loved and cherished me in a way I had never thought possible. With their help I would recover from this and emerge stronger and wiser, our bonds more unbreakable than ever.

**A/N: **Woohooo! Carlisle has FINALLY seen the light! Things are looking uphill for our favorite vampire doctor! Please let me know your thoughts by REVIEWING! They do make the fanficiton world go round, you know. ;p


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Twilight

**A/N: **Welcome to the LAST chapter! Thanks to those very few of you who continued to faithfully review, I really REALLY appreciate it! Enjoy!

**Chapter 19: Closure**

**Carlisle's POV:**

I walked quietly along the riverbed and with a single leap I landed on a branch of a tree. It hung out over the river and I settled myself on it, letting my feet hang down as I watched the running current below me. This was the first bit of alone time I had since the debacle from two weeks ago, formerly termed Black Weekend by Emmett (who else, right?). I had actually snuck away from Emmett on the pretense of going upstairs to get a book. Lame excuse I know, but it worked quite well as the second I entered my office I was jumping out through the balcony and running as fast as my legs would take me.

So why was I running? Because of my family. Yes, you heard right. I was running from my family. I loved them to death but they had all been hovering around me like mad bees on honey for two weeks. Now, I normally loved spending any amount of time with my family but they had been treating me like glass that was about to break. It was maddening! Thank God I was finally going back to work tomorrow.

I shifted on the branch feeling guilty for having these thoughts. I knew my family was only trying to help me. They were concerned by what had happened and wanting to make sure I was doing just fine, but they really did not need to. It was touching though, and I had had quite a number of enjoyable bonding moments with each member of my family...even if they all hadn't started out enjoyable.

Rosalie had confronted me the day we had returned home. I had been throwing away some trash when Rosalie pulled up next to me in Emmett's big, white jeep. She opened the passenger door and asked if I would join her for a ride through the woods. I snorted at the memory. It was clear that this was not a request, and that my fierce kitten was ready to sink her claws into me. Knowing that in order to repair our strained relationship that this would have to happen I willingly jumped into the jeep. I had to immediately resist the urge to put my hands on the seat to hold me up as sitting was still extremely uncomfortable.

I shook my head ruefully as I recalled our little drive. Rosalie had chosen the most rugged, bumpy path imaginable, and let's just say it was the most uncomfortable ride of my life. The entire 45 minutes we were driving I was biting down on my tongue to keep from yelping every time my sore backside hit the seat. Rosalie had been well aware of my discomfort and quite enjoying it if her smirks were anything to go by. I had to resist snarling at her vindictiveness by reminding myself that she had a very good reason to be upset with me. It was an extremely difficult ride, but thankfully after I was unable to keep down a growl Rosalie brought my torture to an end. She promptly jumped out of the car, I all too eagerly following suit. I had stiffly walked towards my angry kitty cat, forcibly restraining myself from rubbing my abused bum…

_…"Enjoyed that, did you?" I could not help but ask bitingly, and I was somewhat surprised when Rosalie just shrugged, giving me an impassive expression._

_ I let out a sigh, letting go of any remaining anger before then wearily saying, "Let me have it Rosalie."_

_ Rosalie narrowed her eyes at me, her firsts clenching and unclenching. "I trusted you," she finally spoke in quiet anger. I could not help the look of hurt that spread across my face at hearing the words I had most feared hearing from my children; which only seemed to increase her anger._

_ "Don't!"she spat furiously. "Don't you dare look hurt after what you did to Emmet…to me! I trusted you and you betrayed that trust!" She took a few steps toward me, her gaze as furious and cold as ever. It had been a long time since she had given me such a hateful look. My heart sunk at the thought that I may have irreparably damaged my relationship with Rosalie, my first daughter, my little kitten. _

_ "Kitten," I began to say, but I was cut off by a loud hiss and a rough shove._

_ "Oomf!" I gasped as I was pushed back a few feet. I looked at at my daughter in sheer surprise._

_ "Don't call me that!" she shrieked. "You have no right to call me that, _Carlisle_!" she declared, her fists clenched into tight fists. Her eyes were dark and she looked ready to attack me. _

_ "Rosalie, I'm so sorry," I apologized in a heartfelt tone. "I am sorrier than you could ever imagine for what happened."_

_ "You're sorry?!" she shouted with a humorless laugh. "You hurt my mate and you hurt me and YOU'RE SORRY?!" she roared before letting out a fierce growl and shoving me once more. I could have stopped her, but chose not to. I fell to the ground this time but quickly pulled myself back up only to once again find myself shoved to the ground. I felt myself growing annoyed, but felt it might be best to allow her to get all this anger out of her system. I was just picking myself up off the ground for the third time when Rose gave a terrible snarl and she slapped me hard across the face._

_ "Ah!" I yelled out in pain and shock before I whirled around and shot my daughter a withering glare, a growl rumbling in my throat. Enough was enough! Rose glared right back at me, but I noticed it was no longer as hateful or as fierce as before. Her eyes were full of unshed tears, but I also noticed fear and acceptance. It was these two last emotions that caused my sudden anger to rapidly leave me as I understood what had just happened. As Edward had done all those years ago, Rosalie had been baiting me. She had deliberately provoked me in the hopes that I would hurt her. _

_ I closed my eyes before turning away from my daughter. I suddenly felt both bone tired and old. I felt sad at not only the fact that Rosalie believed she needed to resort to such a measure, but that she seemed to expect me to actually hurt her. It was as though these past 30 years had never happened, and that she was once more that scared and angry newborn vampire once more. _

_ Letting out a breath I looked back at Rose taking in her quivering body and trembling lip. She was tense and standing defensively. My heart ached, and making a split second decision I slowly closed the space between us. It broke my heart to see the increase in fear, but I did not stop to think before I pulled the child into my arms. She stiffened momentarily before struggling, but I only tightened my hold on her._

_ "Let me GO!" she cried out, bringing her hands up and pushing with all her might against my chest. I still refused to release my hold even as she screamed out curses and threats to me. Eventually, just as I hoped would happen Rosalie stopped fighting. She began to give heart wrenching sobs as she buried her head into my chest, clenching fistfuls of my shirt in her hands. I held her tightly, rocking her gently from side to side. Kissing the top of her head I murmured sweet, loving words to her as she let out all her pent up anger, hurt, and fear._

_ This was all my fault, I thought self deprecatingly. It was just as Esme had told me. I had broken Rosalie's trust in me, a trust she rarely gave to anyone, least of all men. I was the first man she had ever put her full and complete trust in and I had gone and ruined it with my damned temper. I had to right this. I had to believe that our relationship could be repaired and that I could gain back her trust._

_ It was about fifteen minutes later when my little girl's cries began to soften. She was still sniffling, tears continuing to stain my shirt when I finally loosened my hold on her, allowing her to pull away if she wanted. I was immensely grateful when she remained where she was with her face pressed against my chest. I quietly hummed my lullaby to her, gently swaying from side to side as I waited for her to become comfortable enough to face me. It took several more minutes before she let out a soft sigh as she released her tight hold on me. She wiped at her face before looking up at me with a pitiful expression. Her eyes were tear-stained and full of sorrow and apology, and I fought back the urge to pull her into my arms once more at the image she presented. She looked so young right now._

_ We continued to stare each other in silence, each no doubt waiting for the other to speak…_

…It had eventually been I who had broken the silence by gently yet forcibly confronting my kitten about her actions. She began to softly cry once more as she brokenly explained all the hurt, anger, and betrayal she had felt at my actions. I responded my complete understanding along with a heartfelt apology. We were very open and honest with each other, more open and honest than we had been in a long time. It had been some time since just Rose and I had spent time together, and we both benefited greatly from our talk. Hours went by, and I was surprised that no one had come searching for us. Rosalie had answered my curiosity by saying that Esme had assured her she would not let the family interrupt. I had just given a chuckle as I shook my head. Thanks Esme, I had thought in mild sarcasm.

Rosalie had eventually mustered the courage to ask if she was in trouble for having shoved and then slapped me. I considered her question before just shaking my head negatively. She gave me a shocked look before I explained that I was giving her a free pass. These circumstances were not normal, and I had broken her trust. She had lashed out in fear and anger, and I would not hold that against her. I did however inform her quite sternly that if she ever dared to shove me, or God help her, slap me as she had done earlier I would give her a hiding she would not soon forget; and she could bet that I'd be bringing out the belt. I smiled wildly as I remembered her hasty promises before she'd hugged and thanked me for showing such leniency.

When it had finally come time to head home, I had been unable to contain my grimace as I stared at the cursed jeep. Rosalie had caught my look and given me a guilty one as she apologized for my uncomfortable ride over. I could see she had truly regretted the pain I had experienced, and after she assured me she would understand if I ran home I just rolled my eyes before getting into the jeep. She gave me a startled look until she saw me using my hands to keep my backside above the seat. She smiled, but said nothing more until we had reached home where she had given me another tight hug and kiss on the cheek as she thanked me for being her dad. My heart warmed as I knew our relationship had been repaired and trust restored.

I closed my eyes, taking in the sounds of running water, the flapping of bird wings, and the rustle of leaves in the wind. I could smell dampness in the air and knew to expect rain sometime tonight. I let out a content sigh before my thoughts once more drifted towards my family

Esme had stuck closest to me in the beginning. Everywhere I went she went...well, except for those four and a half hours the day after our return when she had forcefully told me to stay in our house while she and the children went out. I had been completely confused by her request (order), and upon questioning her I had been told that she was going to discuss with our children their deliberate attempts to push me. I had tried to tell her it was unnecessary and that I was sure they had learned their lesson, but she had stopped my arguments with a hard stare. Realizing that I would not be able to stop her from doing this I had then attempted to convince her to let me handle this. I told her she had done enough, and that as it was me who they had wronged, that I should be the one to confront them. My wife had firmly negated my opinion though, stating that I was in no condition to be reprimanding anyone when I was still feeling guilt for what I had done.

A part of me felt like I should be insulted by how Esme was restricting me to our house like a disobedient child, but a larger part of me that had still been reeling from everything that had happened gladly accepted the cop out. I was still coming to terms with my new memories, and frankly, I was just too tired to argue, question, or even attempt to interfere with what would happen. I could understand her need to confront the children on what they had done, and I also realized that I would be incapable of doing so.

Those four and a half hours had been quiet, but in no way relaxing as I had been concerned for the kids. My wife would tear me down (as she'd so aptly shown this past weekend) if I hurt one of her cubs, but I was under no delusion that she would not do the same towards those same cubs if they hurt me. Now, I knew she would not be in any way as harsh with them as she had been with me, but I knew my little vampires would be feeling their mama's wrath, so I sympathized for them.

I knew I had been right when four miserable teenagers with red rimmed eyes trooped into my bedroom where I had been dismally failing to relax. They all sported sorrowful, apologetic expressions as they looked to me, and my heart went out to them when I saw several of them rubbing their behinds. I had immediately opened my arms to them, and had been rushed by all four who quickly began to apologize and give promises that nothing like this would ever happen again. I, of course had given them my immediate forgiveness, comforting them as they began to tell me of the royal tongue lashing they had been given, followed by a dozen sharp swats each, except for Emmett. This had really bothered my boy, but I understood why my wife had done this. In addition to not wanting to add further pain to our bear, Esme felt Emmett would feel more punished watching his siblings be physically chastised while he himself was not.

Rosalie had not been amongst them, which had greatly concerned me, especially when I found out that Esme and her had been having an extra discussion over how Rose had treated me during our confrontation the prior day. I had not told my wife what had occurred, which led me to believe Rosalie had. Oh, my brave, brave kitten I thought in sorrow and pride. It had to have taken a lot of guts for her to confess what she had done to me, especially seeing how her mother had already been upset.

Rosalie had shown up an hour later, tears still streaming down her face before she launched herself into my embrace and begged for my forgiveness. Once again I had been quick to give it, but it still took a while for me to help my little girl calm down.

Once all my kids had calmed down and accepted my forgiveness we spent a few more hours just talking. I had been shocked beyond belief when Edward had welcomed me as an official member of the Cullen Spanking Support Group. Once they had explained the purpose of the group, and I had gotten over my shock, amazement, and humor, I had accepted my invitation with good grace. Tales had sprouted from each of my boys after this of their most memorable human spankings, and I myself added one of my first true spanking, which I had received from Arthur when I had been 13. It had been a very enjoyable experience.

It was shortly after all the kids departed and escaped to their rooms that Esme returned, looking utterly woebegone. I knew she was finally allowing herself to come to terms with everything that had happened as of late, starting with her coming home to hear the cries of her son, to my punishment, to the childrens' punishments today. She had been so strong and in control, but now it was her who broke down and me putting her back together…

_…I held my sobbing wife in my arms, all too happy to return the comfort and strength she had provided me with these past several days. When she finally composed herself I placed my hands on either side of her face and told her, "I have never been more proud of you Esme, and more grateful to have you for a wife than these past few days." She stared at me with wide, tear-stained eyes, and I gave her and endearing look as I said, "You were absolutely wonderful, my love. You took charge of the family when I couldn't. You held us all together, providing much needed comfort to the children before tracking my idiotic self down and dealing with my many issues. I know it was not easy, but you never wavered. You remained firm and determined, and you did not let my anger or insecurities influence you. I could never have made it this far if it were not for you. You put me in my place," I spoke with a slight smirk, giving her a light kiss on the lips. "You knocked me down several pegs, but then brought me back stronger than before. I cannot thank you enough."_

_"Oh Carlisle," Esme sighed as she wrapped her arms around my neck and brought me in for a passionate kiss. I all too eagerly returned it, giving a slight groan when she broke apart much too soon for my liking. I heard her giggle softly as she played with the back of my hair. I gave her a pouting look, giving her the best puppy-eyed look I could muster. It did not work as I wanted though as Esme just cooed at me. "Awww," she said, giving my nose a little tweak, "you look like a little boy Carlisle!"_

_"Do not," I countered with a huff, realizing immediately afterwards that that was probably not the best defense as Esme burst into full blown laughter. I gave her a mock glare as I truly enjoyed hearing her beautiful laughter. She had been too serious and sad as of late. She eventually managed to calm herself down before leaning into me, resting her head against the crook of my head. I ran my hand through her thick, caramel-colored hair before seriously asking, "How are you doing, sweetheart?"_

_She broke apart from me and looked me full in the face before letting out a tired sigh. There was a sad look in her eyes again and a good amount of guilt._

_"Why are you feeling guilty?" I questioned gently, giving her a look full of concern. Esme bit her lip, looking away from me with a good amount of uncertainty. I watched her in growing concern, patiently waiting for her to gather enough courage to talk to me. _

_"Do you think I was too hard on the children?" she asked, almost in a shy manner._

_"No love, of course not," I responded immediately. "This issue needed to be confronted, and you did beautifully. You only gave them a dozen swats. That can hardly be considered harsh," I stated with a smile._

_Esme smiled weakly before then telling me how she had given Rose another twelve swats for having slapped me. "I wanted to give her much worse, but seeing as you did nothing," she explained with a mildly glare, "I felt I would be overstepping. Why did you allow her to get away with having shoved you repeatedly and then slapped you with no consequences?"_

_"I felt that considering the circumstances, leniency could be granted. I fully invited her to let loose," I responded, "and she did as such. She was letting our her hurt and fury over what she considered my betrayal, so it just felt wrong to me to chastise her. Besides, I just...I just didn't have it in me to cause her anymore pain that I already had."_

_Esme nodded her head understandingly, giving my cheek a soft caress. "She went too far with the slap," she told me, "which is why I administered those extra twelve swats. I impressed upon her the seriousness of what she did and informed her that the consequences would be much more severe if she ever treated you in such a manner again.  
_

_"I threatened her with a fierce strapping if she ever slapped me again," I commented, and Esme nodded her head in agreement. I felt a bit of warmth spread through me that my wife still trusted my abilities in punishing our children, especially in terms of my belt. I had thought she might forbid me from ever using it, but it seemed her trust in me was completely restored. _

_I watched my wife in silence for several more moments, noticing she had still not lost the guilty look. "What else is bothering you, Esme?" I asked gently._

_She looked me in the eyes, her expression turning conflicted before she spoke. "Carlisle," she pressed quietly, "if I asked you something would you be honest with me? Even if it would hurt me?" I frowned at the question, trying to anticipate why she was asking me this. It took me longer than it should have, but I suddenly realized what was bothering her. She was wanted to talk to me about my punishment now. She was obviously afraid she had hurt me. Oh Esme, I thought sadly._

_"Love," I stated kindly, "you gave me nothing more and nothing less than I deserved." Esme pursed her lips as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear._

_"You did not answer my question," she responded mildly, and I suppressed a sigh as I said, "I will always be honest with you Esme." She nodded her head in satisfaction before then asking the question that had apparently been weighing on her._

_"Did I hurt you? Did I take the punishment too far?" she questioned, and I frowned even more, unhappy that she truly thought she had hurt me, and that she had been carrying this burden around with her. I was happy though that she opened up to me about her fear rather than holding it in._

_"Absolutely not," I immediately answered. "I deserved every lick"—_

_"Did you?" Esme interjected with a doubtful look. "Carlisle, I hit you harder than I had ever intended to because you stubbornly refused to give in. I should never have done that. I caused you to have a flashback, and instead of talking to you about it I continued your punishment. I"—she attempted to state but I just shook my head as I placed a finger on her lips. She gave me a heated glare, not at all happy with my interruption, but thankfully remained silent when I removed my finger._

_"Esme, listen closely, love," I told her, giving her a serious look, "you have _nothing_ to be guilty about. I put you in a horrible position and you performed marvelously. You set out to teach me a lesson and to help alleviate me of my overwhelming guilt and you succeeded. You say you had to swat me harder than you intended to, but that was all my fault," I retorted. "I was the one who stubbornly refused to make a sound. I was treating this punishment as I had all those when I was a human, and that wasn't fair to you. I knew you were not Samuel, yet I acted as if you were, and for that I apologize."_

_"Carlisle," Esme protested, "I should have realized what was happening. I should have anticipated your reaction and changed my method."_

_"It is not your fault," I argued strongly. "You did the best you could with the situation you were dealt. I realized what was occurring long before you did and I should have told you what was occurring."_

_My wife stubbornly shook her head. "I should have realized what was happening. You were not exactly in the position to be thinking clearly, darling, so you cannot hold yourself at fault. I was the one in charge and I let you down."_

_"You let no one down, least of all me," I countered strongly, putting a hand on the side of her cheek. "I had a feeling I may slip into a flashback, and as I felt it happening I should have spoken up. I was too busy trying to salvage my pride though and so I remained stubbornly silent. That is my fault. You acted wonderfully, Esme. You brought me out of the flashback and brought me back to reality."_

_Esme gazed back at me, and I was unsurprised to see a good amount of anger in those golden eyes. "You had a feeling this would happen yet you said nothing to me? You remained silent because of _pride?!_"_

_I cringed at her tone before nodding. Esme pursed her lips tightly, giving me a disapproving look. She said nothing for several moments before letting out a sigh. I too let out a breath of relief I had not realized I had been holding in._

_"Was I right to continue the punishment after the flashback?"Esme then questioned, a bit of anger in her tone revealing she was still upset with me._

_"Yes," I responded in complete honesty. "If you had stopped the punishment there things would have…I would not have taken it well," I attempted to explain. "The guilt would have continued to eat away at me along with the shame of not being able to take my punishment. I would have also been dealing with the memory all on my own." I shuddered at the mere thought. "I am grateful you finished."_

_Esme's eyes were somewhat wide at my admission before she nodded her head mutely. I could see the tension leaving her and knew that I had finally gotten through to her…_

…I smiled at the thought of my loving wife. Yes, she really had risen to the challenge and come out on top. The punishment had been harsh, but I had been completely honest when I had told her she had not been too hard on me. I was not one of the children, and there had been no room for this punishment to fail. After that conversation with Esme I had managed to alleviate her worries. I still could see a bit of guilt in her eyes when she noted how long my discomfort added (a week and a half, ouch!) but I let it go. There was nothing I could do about it. I knew I always felt a bit of guilt for having to punish one of my children despite the fact that they thoroughly deserved it and I was trying to help them, so I was unsurprised to see Esme feel this. She was a tender, kind-hearted soul, but that did not mean she could not be as tough as nails as proven by these events. Her brilliant leadership skills had definitely earned her even more respect from all the children. They had always respected her as their mother, but now they respected her as a leader as well. I did enjoy knowing that if something were to ever happen to me that Esme would be able to successfully take charge of our rambunctious family.

The rest of my bonding moments had not been so emotional, though they were nonetheless meaningful and touching. My little man had been the next to approach me. Esme and I had been relaxing on our bed, softly chatting about how her architect convention had gone when we heard a very faint knock on our bedroom door. Taking a breath I caught the scent of Edward and happily invited him in…

_…The door slowly opened before a hesitant head poked its way inside. Edward stared at both his mother and I with an unsure look on his face. His bronze hair was messier than usual, and he was biting his lip. I stared at my boy with a curious look for a few seconds before he fully entered the bedroom and suddenly launched himself onto our bed, landing right in between Esme and I. He turned his body towards me and wrapped his arms around me before hiding his face in my shirt. I gladly returned the hug while exchanging a startled look with my wife. It had been a very long time since I had seen Edward behave this way. In fact, the last time Edward had come to his mother and I for comfort like this had been before Rosalie joined the family._

_ I ran a hand through Edward's messy locks while Esme rubbed his back comfortingly. _

_"Dad?" Edward spoke in a whisper. "You love me right?"_

_ "Of course I do!" I responded immediately, concerned as to why he would feel the need to ask this. I tried to get Edward to look at me, but he responded by tightening his hold on me._

_ "You would never leave me, Dad, right?" he then asked in the same quiet voice, sounding much younger than seventeen. I was confused by his behavior and these sudden questions, worrying that I had done something to hurt him without realizing it. I looked up at Esme to see what she thought and was surprised to see complete understanding on her face. She stared at Edward with a tender look, placing a soft kiss on his head before getting up off the bed. I threw her a bewildered look, beyond shocked that she would leave when it was obvious her baby boy was troubled, but my attention was quickly drawn back to my first born when he called my name again._

_ "Dad?" he pressed, a slight tinge of panic in his tone, and I realized I hadn't answered his question._

_ "No my little man," I rushed to answer, "I will _never_ leave you. How could you think that? You are my son, Edward, and I would never abandon you."_

_ "But you were going to," he responded, his voice sounding tearful. "You were going to leave me, and if Mom hadn't stopped you…," he said before trailing off, and I felt a few tears begin to stain my shirt. I gave an internal groan as realization hit me, and I now understood why Esme had left. This was another consequence of my poor behavior._

_ Edward was extremely attached to me. Though he would always vehemently deny it, he was a Daddy's boy through and through. He and I shared a special bond, one that was unique and different from the bonds I shared with the rest of my family. He was the first member of my family, my first son, my first companion. He was with me as I learned to be both a friend, mentor, and father. I was there for him as he adjusted to this new life, and as he suffered due to his gift; and I was there for him when he came back a mere shell of himself from his rebellious days. _

_ With each new member of our family Edward had always struggled to adjust to sharing me with more and more people. Each time he, without realizing it, had remained close to me, nearly clinging onto me in a possessive manner. The worst moments had been with Esme, and she had suffered more than she ever let on by Edward's apparent jealousy and spite. He had been resentful of her growing relationship with me, but after witnessing my displeasure a few times at his treatment of her, he had learned to hide his antagonistic attitude from me; and Esme, not wanting to cause discord had remained quiet. It was only years later during Edward's absence from our lives that Esme had confessed the torment Edward had put her through. My boy was lucky I had been unaware or he would have been permanently nursing a sore bottom during those tumultuous days._

_ Anyways, looking at my little man clinging to me as though he were afraid I would disappear, I realized I had scared him when I had run. He had felt that he was going to lose me, and he had only now mustered enough courage to seek me out for comfort and reassurances. _

_ "Edward, my wonderful, loving boy," I murmured kindly, "please look at me."_

_ I waited a few seconds before Edward slowly pulled his head away and looked up at me with accusing eyes. There were tear tracks on his face, and I wiped them away with my thumb before running a soothing hand through my son's hair. _

_ "Explain to me what's wrong, little man, please,"_ _I said to him. He chewed on his bottom lip, giving me a look to see if I really wanted to know. I just raised a disbelieving eyebrow in return, not really believing he was doubting my sincerity. He gave me a sheepish smile before telling me exactly what I had already assumed…_

…After his explanation I had assured Edward that I would never leave him or anyone else in the family. I had told him that I had acted childishly and recklessly, and that it had been wrong of me to run away as I had. I had also rushed to assure him that I would never have been able to stay away from everyone as my family was my life. He had expressed his understanding, briefly mentioning his own inability to remain away from our family when had attempted living on his own. Edward had then made some jokes about Esme having made quite an impression on me as he playfully jabbed me in the stomach. I had rolled my eyes before ruffling his hair, which I knew he hated.

The rest of the night had been spent with us just talking about nothing in particular. Edward had told me about some of the new music he was composing, confessed his continuing desire for a mate of his own, and complained about the monotony of school. I had complained to him about that prat Dr. Leigh, confessed a bit of the lingering guilt I possessed over how badly I had messed up, and how I was seeing more and more the negative effects my mistakes had on the family. It was really nice having this heart to heart with Edward. He was the child I worried about the most. I knew of his depression over being the only single vampire in our family, and how he continuously grappled over what we were. His depression often caused him to close himself off from everyone, lashing out at anyone who attempted to approach him. With our large family and my work I was saddened to admit that I did not often give my son the attention he needed.

I swung my legs back and forth, watching a doe and two fawns cross the river. The mother deer nuzzled her two babies before stiffening and glancing in my direction. Its tail flashed up in warning before she herded her two fawns deep into the forest. I smiled slightly at the mother's protectiveness, recalling the many times Esme had stood up to me in defense of her little cubs.

Alice was the next one of my children to pop into my mind. I chuckled as I recalled our time together. When she had dragged me out the door and began driving towards the city I had been preparing myself for a long day of shopping, telling myself that this was just more punishment that I deserved, so I had been completely astonished when we had ended up at the state museum. Alice had laughed heartily at my face, poking me in the stomach as she teased me for believing she would subject me to the tortures of shopping.

Dragging me inside she had sported a bright smile as she took me towards a new section of the museum. I sucked in a breath, eyes widening when I noticed the theme of this section: 17th century England…

_…I slowly took a few steps forward, my eyes taking in all the displays. I rarely entered museums, feeling no desire to see old artifacts of times gone by (my children often enjoyed pointing out that I myself was an old artifact that belonged in a museum). I turned towards my angel and asked, "Why did you bring me here?"_

_ Alice stared up at me with bright eyes as she answered, "You like to bury things Dad, and I know that after what happened you're going to once more try and bury your past."_

_ I frowned before giving a shake of my head and saying, "I am not going to bury my past again. I am just choosing to not dwell on it."_

_ Alice gave me a pointed look, put her hands on her hips and said, "And what exactly is the difference, Mister? You're just playing with words."_

_ "No I'm not Alice," I attempted to argue, but she just shook her head._

_ "Look Daddy, I'm didn't bring you here to argue. I brought you here because I don't want you to forget your past or where you came from. I know your human life had a lot of pain, but it can't have all been bad, right?" she questioned hopefully._

_ "No," I conceded, "it wasn't all bad."_

_ My daughter gave me a triumphant smile before then saying, "I don't remember anything from my human life, and you can't understand how awful that is. I know it might be a good thing I can't remember, but truthfully I feel I'd rather know even if my life was horrible. All your guys' pasts have shaped the people you've become. They've given you an identity, but I don't have a past. If it wasn't for my visions, who knows what I'd be." She shrugged her shoulders like she wasn't that bothered by what she was saying, but I saw through her. I graced her with a caring smile before opening my arms for her. She promptly accepted it, throwing her small arms around me. Oh, my sweet, sweet little girl, I thought lovingly. She brought me here in order to help me have a more positive outlook on my human life. She knew how much I hated my past and how much I longed to just erase it from my memory, but here she was teaching this old dog a lesson. She wanted me to know that as terrible as my past was it was best I did not forget it, and that I learned to look at it in a good way. _

_ I rubbed my daughter's back comfortingly for a few moments before she broke away and graced me with a wide, happy smile._

_ "You know you can talk to me whenever you want, right Angel?" I asked her. "If you ever feel bothered or upset about anything at all, come seek me out, you got it?"_

_ "I know Dad, but I'm fine," she responded. "Besides, right now is about you. I figured we could walk around and you could tell me what all this old stuff is, and maybe even tell me some good memories. What do you think?" she asked with a wide, hopeful smile._

_ I couldn't help but smile back before nodding my head in agreement. "Alright Alice," I told her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder as I began to walk towards the exhibits, "let us see how accurate this museum is."_

_ We wandered slowly from one display to the next, Alice asking question after question and I answering each one. _

_ "What in god's name are _those_?" she asked, derision clear in her tone. _

_ I looked at what she was pointing at and smothered a chuckle as I answered, "Breeches. We didn't have pants or jeans so we wore those."_

_ "Were they all so…flamboyant?" she then asked, her lips curled in disgust. The breeches were red with yellow stripes running down the legs._

_ I bit down hard on my lip to bit back a laugh at her apparent disgust. "No," I replied in amusement, "it was mostly the wealthy who wore such colors." I took a quick glance around the room to make sure no one was near before adding, "All the breeches I ever wore were various shades of brown or black."_

_ Alice nodded her head in relief before then asking me what kind of tops we wore. I smiled, giving a fond shake of my head. Leave it to my Alice to be concerned with fashion in the 1600s. Guiding her a little further down the wall I pointed toward a case that had a male mannequin wearing an outfit much like the ones I had worn with a white linen shirt, dark brown breeches, and black boots. "These are the clothes I would've worn during those days," I informed my little pixie, gesturing towards the mannequin._

_ Alice gazed at the display with a serious look before turning towards me. Her eyes roved over me as she no doubt imagined me in this outfit. I quirked an eyebrow at her when she gave a few slow nods._

_ "It's okay Dad," she responded in a reassuring tone, "even though these clothes are a bit ghastly I'm certain you would've pulled them off fabulously."_

_ "Absolutely marvelous," I commented sarcastically, hand over my heart, an expression of sincere relief on my face. "I am so glad I wasn't out of fashion."_

_ Alice narrowed her eyes at me before turning her nose up. "Hmph! Well excuuuuse me for caring!" And with those words I finally lost the control I had, and I began laughing quite uproariously. Alice's expression turned outraged before she just shook her head, muttering, "Men!" as she walked away from me_

_ It took several moments for me to have calmed down enough to rejoin my daughter on her tour. I knew she hadn't been at all upset with me when she greeted me with a grin before once more beginning to fire off questions. My favorite part of the tour had been seeing old maps and paintings of the London of my youth. I pointed out to Alice various locations that I could remember having been to and walked through. The more I saw the more I began to recall._

_ "London was absolutely filthy, and it smelled like a…well, it smelled quite unpleasant," I remarked, scrunching my nose in disgust at the mere memory. _

_ Alice too scrunched up her little nose, and I internally cooed at how adorable she looked. We walked around a little more, and I began to regale her with a few of my youthful tales. One tale in particular concerned my best mate James and I, both roaring drunk, trying to find our way to his home in the middle of the night. _

_ "You see Alice there were no lights in those days, only a few scattered lanterns here and there, so it was pitch black," I recalled with a slight smile. "We were both stumbling through the dark, bumping into each other and the walls…" I trailed off at this point, suddenly uncertain whether I should be telling this story. Alice's obvious amusement and genuine curiosity though told me to continue. It wasn't as though she could get drunk, I reassured myself, and it wasn't as though I were talking with Emmett. My big bear would no doubt try to outdo my mischief no matter the fact that he couldn't get drunk._

_ "Well, we ended up in a seedier side of London, and without realizing we stumbled into a brothel. We were mere lads at this point," I added at Alice's wide eyed look, "about thirteen years old, and we were completely unprepared for the attention the women began lavishing on us." I chuckled softly at the memory. "We had no idea what to do so we kept throwing each other wide-eyed, frightened looks before James just shouted out that we had no money and were trying to find our way home. The women began to laugh, no doubt poking fun at us before an enormous man with arms as thick and hairy as a gorilla's came, picked us up like a couple of kittens, and unceremoniously kicked us out." Alice began to laugh heartily before demanding to know what happened next._

_ I ruffled my hair, giving my angel a sheepish smile before resuming my tale. "Things got even unluckier for us after that for right at the moment we were kicked out of the brothel, James's father, Arthur ran up to us." Alice's eyes widened and she covered her mouth in shock before her eyes turned sympathetic. "Yes," I spoke with a nod, "we were busted. Arthur was absolutely furious at having seen us exit a brothel. We tried to explain that we hadn't done anything, but during that explanation it became quite obvious to him that we were drunk, which only infuriated him more. He ended up dragging us both home by pulling on our ears." I absentmindedly rubbed at my ear as I though I could still feel the pain._

_ "Did he spank you, or did he tell Samuel?" she questioned quietly, totally enraptured with my story._

_ "He spanked me," I replied, noticing as she gave a sigh of relief. "He waited until the next evening when our hangovers were gone to do so, but he made me a very sorry young man. It was quite some time before I was able to even look at a bottle of alcohol, haha!"_

_ "Wow Dad," Alice spoke in slight awe, "I just can't picture you getting into so much trouble. Wait until I tell everybody else this story!"…_

…I grinned, giving a light chuckle at the memory. I had a lot of fun that day with Alice, and she had helped me remember some good memories from my human life. She had taught me to not be so afraid of my past. I supposed she had some practice seeing as her mate suffered from some of the same issues I did. Jasper had abuse in his past, he had death, and he had guilt. We were a lot alike in some ways. He was one of the main reasons I had finally been able to overcome some of the pain of my past. Seeing Jasper able to overcome his meant that I should be able to as well, especially when he overcame his past trauma with help that I had given him. I should not have been so surprised by his anger towards me on Sunday when we were talking because I really had acted as though I had lied to him. Why should what I said to him not work for me as well? If I told him he had no reason to be guilty for what Maria had made him do, then I had no reason to feel guilty for what Samuel had made me do.

The day after my outing with Alice, Jasper felt the need to approach me. I had been leaning against my bookshelf, reading a book when Jasper requested entry. I rolled my eyes both at his formal request and at the fact that I had only been alone for fifteen minutes. Anyhow, my soldier had promptly entered, appearing slightly surprised at not seeing me at my desk. The surprise didn't last long before a slight smirk appeared on his face. I braced myself for whatever teasing remark he was about to give, but none came. Instead, he held up his wooden chessboard and asked if I would like to play with him. I raised my eyebrows in surprise before nodding my head.

Jasper had given me a handsome grin before heading towards my couch, placing the chessboard down on the coffee table. Grabbing a chair he then placed it opposite the couch before sitting down in it and gesturing for me to take the couch…

_… "Would ya like me to get ya a pillow?" he asked with an innocent look on his face. I scoffed, giving him a light cuff on the head as I walked by him before settling myself down on the couch._

_ "You ready to lose again, Jasper?" I questioned, and he gave me a broad smirk as he responded, "I was gonna ask ya the same question, Old Man"_

_ "Old man?" I questioned in an unimpressed raised eyebrow. "Very well, let's see what you got, laddie."_

_ Jasper grinned somewhat evilly before making his first move. We played for several minutes, exchanging a multitude of playful insults before Jasper casually commented, "Alice seemed ta have a good time with ya yesterday."_

_ I felt happy to hear that and responded by saying, "I had a good time as well."_

_ Jasper eyed me momentarily before smiling. "She's good at makin' people feel better, 'specially bout their past," he said, and I nodded my head in agreement, feeling as though we were reaching the real reason behind Jasper's visit. "So I take it she helped?" he questioned._

_ "Yes, she helped me immensely," I answered. "It was nice to be able to look at my past without feeling pain."_

_ Jasper nodded his head in understanding before focusing on the game once more. We made several more moves in silence before I decided to ask my own question._

_ "How are you doing about your past, Jazz? Does it still eat away at you?" I normally was not so direct with Jasper, but I felt we had come to some sort of understanding after I had opened up about my past. Realizing the similarities between us I felt as though he were more apt to open up to me seeing as I truly did understand him._

_ "Sometimes," Jasper answered, slowly, a frown marring his face as he captured one of my pawns. I remained silent, taking one of his knights before he began to speak again. _

_ "I was angry with ya Papa at how dumb ya was bein' on Sunday," he remarked conversationally, no anger in his tone. "I felt like ya didn't really believe all that you'd told me. I thought you'd lied ta me, and I really wanted to knock yer block off," he admitted, looking towards me with a serious expression._

_ I stared straight back, nodding my head in understanding._

_ "Did ya mean what ya told me, or were ya just sproutin' words, because it seemed as though you didn't want ta believe them at all," he pressed, staring me straight in the eyes._

_ "I meant every word," I answered in complete honesty. "I am terribly sorry if I caused you to doubt my words, but I would never lie to you, especially about something so serious. I was being stubborn and ignorant on Sunday. I was stuck in the mind frame of my teenage self, and just not willing to listen. You, your siblings and mother were a great help, and I could not have overcome this hurtle without you."_

_ Jasper gazed at me for a straight minute, and I knew he was assessing me to see if I were being truthful. It was obvious I passed his test when he relaxed, giving me a small smile before turning back to our game. With his ability he sent me waves of apology and love, and I gave him a warm smile as I focused on my love for him. I saw as he visibly perked up, looking more like a boy than a hardened soldier. _

_ "Check mate," he suddenly called out triumphantly, giving me a cheeky green when I stared at the board with a bewildered expression. How in the world?_

_ "You little cheat, you purposefully distracted me!" I cried out, giving him a mock glare._

_ "Did not. I can't help it if I'm betta than ya," he countered snobbishly, and I gave a playful growl before demanding a rematch._

_We played eight more games, each of us winning four, which meant that Jasper had won this little tournament with five games. Amusement surged through me as I watched Jasper's uncharacteristic display of enthusiasm. This was the first time he'd ever won more games than I and he was overjoyed, jumping up and down, pumping his fists into the air, occasionally throwing me smug looks. When it had gone on for over five minutes, I finally felt enough was enough and promptly tackled the boy to the floor. He yelped in complete surprise before I grabbed him in a headlock and began to give him a noogie. He screamed and hollered before finally escaping my grasp and giving me a playful shove. _

_We quickly began wrestling with each other, and I am sure this would have turned into an epic battle if we had not accidentally broken a lamp._

_"What's going on up there?" Esme called out sharply, and Jasper and I exchanged wide eyed looks before we cried out in unison, "Nothing!" I winced, right away realizing how guilty we sounded._

_"Why do I find that hard to believe?" my wife responded quite dryly._

_"I have no idea," my soldier responded jovially, "but I must say Mama, that you look simply ravishing today." I bit down on my hand to keep from laughing, especially when Esme replied, "Jasper dear, you cannot even see me, so how would you know if I look "ravishing", as you say?"_

_"The boy is smart, Love," I decided to say. "He has great taste and I would have to agree, that you do look quite stunning today, and yesterday, and the day before, and tomorrow, and the day after, and pretty much any day of the week ending in "y". _

_Snickers could be heard throughout the house, the loudest coming from Emmett's room (surprise, surprise). Even Esme let out a laugh before saying she didn't want to know what was going on up here, but that we'd better clean up whatever broke this instant._

_Jasper gave me a roguish grin and a wink at this point before trying to strut out of my room. I hauled the soldier by the cuff of his shirt back towards me before forcing him to help me clean up all the lamp pieces..._

...I looked down at my swinging legs, marveling at how often I'd reverted to my youthful self recently. There were times when I felt like one of the boys, and I just felt like getting into mischief. I didn't use to feel this way. I was so concerned I had actually mentioned this to Esme who had assured me it was not as bad as I thought. She had told me I was just living a childhood I had never had, and that she really found it quite adorable and funny. When I had confessed to her a worry of no longer being a capable leader she had outright laughed before giving me a fond look. "Carlisle," she had stated lovingly, "you are a born leader. You are very mature and responsible, so I know that even when you let your guard down enough to have fun or act silly, you will always do what is right. You will never put a childish desire above your duties to our family. Relax my love, and learn to enjoy your fun."

Esme, Esme, Esme, I thought lovingly. How I adored my beautiful, intelligent, charming wife. She knew me better than I knew myself. What would I do without her?

I tensed suddenly when I heard yelling in the distance before relaxing when I realized who it was.

"Pops! Oh Papa Bear!" I heard Emmett yell in the distance, and I could not help the groan that escaped my lips. Here comes my big bruin, I thought, turning my heads towards the loud crashing noises I heard.

"Oh where oh where is my Papa Bear, oh where oh where could he be?" I heard Emmett sing at the top of his lungs, and I let out a loud laugh. Never a dull moment with my boy. As my son bounded on over towards me sounding more like a herd of elephants than a single boy my mind drifted towards yesterday.

Emmett and I had gone on a hunt together. My son had brought along a small backpack, and upon my inquiry he had responded that I'd find out soon enough. I had raised a curious eyebrow but let it go. When we had finished hunting and Emmett had finished grumbling about me getting the larger bear he stopped in a small clearing, removing his backpack from his shoulder…

_…I watched him curiously, growing alarmed when I saw him pull out some gasoline and a box of matches._

_ "Emmett Dale, what are you"—I stopped speaking when I saw him pull out my belt and a piece of wood with the name Samuel Cullen crudely carved into it. I was stunned with no idea of what to say so I silently watched as he dropped the piece of wood and leather to the ground before looking towards me._

_ "You recognize this belt?" he asked with a slight smirk, and I gave a mute nod. How could I not recognize it? It was the same one that had lit both mine and Emmett's tails on fire. It was a belt I thought I had thrown into the darkest recesses of my closet in the hopes of never seeing it again. _

_ "And this here is a piece of wood I found and carved Samuel's name into. What I'm planning is that we burn these," Emmett informed me._

_ "Why?" I couldn't help but ask._

_ "Why not?" my boy had responded impishly before turning serious and saying, "I thought it'd be a way for us to sort of say goodbye to the past. We'll burn that damned belt together as a way to move on from what happened, both my punishment and yours. And then you'll burn this piece of wood as a way to say goodbye to your father and the life you led with him."_

_ I stared at Emmett with a gobsmacked expression, totally caught off guard by what he suggested. As I thought it through though I could not help but like the idea more and more._

_ "It'll be fun!" my bear cried out happily, giving me a joyous grin._

_ I smiled back, extremely touched by his effort to help me out. _

_ "Let's do this," I responded, gesturing for Emmett to start. He practically vibrated with excitement as he cleared an area on the ground of all leaves and debris. Placing the belt in the middle he then poured a bit of gasoline before taking out a match. Turning towards me he solemnly declared, "By burning this horrible piece of leather we hereby absolve ourselves of the wretched sins that landed our poor, unfortunate, unsuspecting bums in massive trouble, and which made sitting torturous and agonizing, which really is just not cool." He cleared his throat, and I found myself mentally laughing hysterically at his words. Only Emmett could add hilarity to such a solemn affair. _

_ Emmett lit the match and threw it on my belt, and I will admit I felt a good amount of satisfaction at watching it burn._

_ "As this wretched piece of leather turns to ashes, we promise to let go of lingering guilt, and we promise to mind our tempers. It is time to start anew," Emmett declared. "Ashes to ashes, dust to dust."_

_ I clapped Emmett on the shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze, and he returned the gesture._

_ "It's cool Pops, everything is cool between us. We've learned from this, and now there is no more need to dwell on it, you got me?" he pressed._

_ "Yes Emmett, I got you," I responded, giving the boy a proud grin._

_ We watched in silence as the belt burned to mere ashes, and when I had assured that the fire was out Emmett delighted in kicking the ashes around while giving a boisterous laugh. _

_ I shook my head in amusement, giving a laugh of my own at his enthusiasm. I did feel lighter after having done this. Like Emmett wanted it was as though watching the belt burn and the ashes spread that the pain caused from Emmett's unjust punishment and the guilt I felt was burned away. It was a nice feeling._

_ Staring down now at the piece of wood with my father's name I was not quite sure what to think. Emmett, noting my gaze promptly began clearing a spot for me to burn it, but I shook my head._

_ "No son," I said, and he gave me a confused look._

_ "Why not, Pops?" he asked. "You gotta let go of your father, and this'll work. It worked with the belt, right?"_

_ I nodded my head before then saying, "I don't want to burn it, I want to bury it." Burning didn't seem right for this. Unlike with my belt, it now seemed a harsh, angry method and I didn't want to say goodbye to Father in that way. There had been enough anger and hatred during life. There was no need for that now. _

_ Emmett stared at me before nodding his head in understanding. "Alright Pops, whatever you want. It'd be more fun to burn though…"_

_ I smiled briefly before picking up the ugly piece of wood. I glanced around before heading towards a tree I knew I'd be able to find if I ever wanted to. It was a petrified tree, the only one in the region. Kneeling at the base, I quickly dug a deep hole before picking up the wood with his name again. I stared down at it, feeling a myriad of emotions before placing it in the hole._

_ "You did not deserve to be a father. You did not deserve me," I spoke aloud. "You attempted to instill in me the same rage that you had within you, but you failed. You attempted to use me and turn me into a tool, but you failed. You are no longer a part of my life. You cannot and will not ever hurt me again…" I paused momentarily, feeling I should not end this in such a negative way. I was only going to say goodbye once, so I should not spend it dwelling on the bad._

_ "Thank you for the knowledge and skills you gave me…." I trailed off once more, my mind racing for something good to say or some good memory. It took several moments before one came to mind._

_ "I have this memory of you Father, of the day I turned eight years old. You had been scheduled to leave that morning, but instead of doing so you surprised me by staying home and taking me fishing instead. You told me that I was more important than your job," I recalled, the sweet memory turned bitter because of later memories of Samuel. _

_ "We spent the entire day out in the woods. You taught me how to fish, and we just talked and joked around. You let your guard down and you smiled more than I could ever remember. You did not have to pretend around me, or at least you didn't then." I paused, rubbing a hand over my face as I began to feel emotional. "That was the day you gave me my ring with the family crest, the same one that I still wear to this day. It was too big for me then, so you put a thin piece of rope through it and put it around my neck, telling me that I should always carry it with me. You explained to me the meaning behind each symbol and the pride I should have in being a Cullen." I took a few breaths, feeling my throat constrict. I noisily cleared it, trying to gain the strength to continue._

_ I stiffened momentarily when I felt Emmett sit down next to me, his right knee touching my left. He said nothing, but his mere presence was more than enough to bolster me._

_ "I remember how I did not want that day to end. You never once brought up work or religion. All you wanted to know was about me. How was I doing? How were my studies going? How were my friends? The day finally came to an end and you pulled me in for a hug, telling me how proud of me you were, and…" My voice cracked, tears actually welling up in my eyes. I took in a deep breath. "And you told me you loved me. You were different in those days Father, kinder, and more human. Why did you change? Why did you become so consumed with hatred?" I questioned, a few tears sliding down my cheeks._

_ "I loved you Father, I really did, and I did _everything_ I could to please you but it just…," I let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through my hair. Now wasn't the time for regrets and questions. _

_ "I am sorry Father, sorry that I was not the son you wanted, sorry about whatever turned you into such a hard, bitter old man. I hope wherever you are you have found peace. I certainly have… Goodbye Father." And with that I pushed the dirt back into the hole, patting it down to make sure the dirt would not fly around in the wind or rain before standing up. I took in a deep breath and turned around to face Emmett. He gave me a warm smile before wrapping his arms around me and pulling me in for a hug…_

…"There you are Pops!" Emmett cried out loudly, staring up at me from the ground. "You stuck up there, old timer?"

"Yes, how did you know?" I answered sarcastically, rolling my eyes at how often my children delighted in calling me old.

"Don't worry, I'll rescue you!" Emmett declared, momentarily posing in a heroic stance before leaping up to join me on the branch.

"Emmett, no don't!" I yelled in alarm, but too late as Emmett landed down hard on the branch. A loud _crack_ was heard before Emmett and I found ourselves unceremoniously dropped into the river below.

"Oh crap!" Emmett shouted in surprise as I gave a yell.

_Splash!_

The river wasn't very deep so we were able to stand up, the water only up to our waists, but we were both still soaking wet. I shot my son a thoroughly unamused glare causing him to give a nervous chuckle. "Hehe, well I got you out of that tree, didn't I?"

I gave a quiet growl and was readying to pounce on my miscreant when I was sidetracked by loud laughter. I groaned before looking to my right and seeing my entire family standing—well, trying to stand as they laughed over how ridiculous Emmett and I no doubt looked. I was about to say something when I saw a flash, and I groaned again as I realized someone had just taken a picture. So bloody brilliant. A quick glance told me Rosalie was the culprit. She smirked widely, waving a hand at me in greeting.

"Hi everybody!" Emmett called out joyously, not at all caring about the situation we were in. His siblings and Rose called out their own enthusiastic greetings, but when he glanced at his mother, she was pinning him with a stern expression. Actually, she was pinning _me_ with a stern expression as well. Now what did I do, I thought concernedly.

"_Boys_," she spoke in a quiet voice that set me on edge, "why is it than whenever I leave you two alone you end up either soaking wet or absolutely filthy?"

"Uhhh," Emmett mumbled, giving me a look that clearly said I should handle this right now. I fought down the urge to laugh as I wasn't quite sure how to handle this. So, taking the coward's way out I pointed at Emmett and simply said, "It's his fault."

"_What?!_" Emmett gasped out in shock, giving me a horrified look. I heard the others unsuccessfully trying to smother their laughter as Esme quirked an eyebrow at me. I gave her an innocent smile as I stepped out of the river.

Emmett finally broke out of his shock and hastily screamed, "Was not Mama, it's all _his_ fault! I'm innocent!" I snorted briefly as 'Emmett' and 'innocent' were two words that should never be in the same sentence unless there was a 'not' somewhere in it.

"Was not!" I retorted.

"Was too!"

"Was not!"

"Was too!"

"Not!"

"Too!"

"_Not_!"

"_Too_!"

"_Not_—hey!" I yelled when Esme gave my ear a rough yank. I rubbed it, throwing her a petulant look as she gave an exasperated shake of her head. My children couldn't contain their laughter anymore and were practically rolling on the floor they were so amused.

"Both of you are to march straight home, and don't you dare step a foot into that house with those clothes. You are to strip to your boxers and leave your clothes out on the porch," Esme ordered, pointing a finger in the direction of home.

"You know dear, you seem to be giving me that order quite a lot lately. Is it me or do you just like seeing me in my boxers?" I pressed, raising suggestive eyebrows at her.

Esme's eyes widened and her mouth fell open, and I knew if it were possible her face would be beet red from embarrassment.

"Ewww! Ugh" I heard the children cry.

"I did so not need to hear that," Edward commented, giving me a disgusted look.

"Oh for goodness sake, don't listen to your father!" Esme cried out, seeming rather flustered. I smirked, giving her a charming wink to which she responded by slapping my arm and looking away.

"Home, _now_," she ordered, and I just smiled innocently when she threw me a mild glare.

Emmett gave an exaggerated sigh as he got out of the river and slowly began to walk towards home. "I was only trying to help the old man out," he grumbled to himself, throwing me a mutinous look. "And what the heck ever happened to just being gone for second to get a book Pops, huh?" he asked, and I gave him a wide grin before winking.

"Just needed a little time to myself Em, sorry," I answered with an apologetic shrug.

"Huh, maybe I'll try that excuse sometime," he mused, and I laughed out loud when Jasper incredulously shouted out, "You can read?!"

Laughter and teasing ensued after that as we all slowly made our way home. The boys eventually ended up playing an impromptu game of tackle football with a rock, roping first me and then each one of the woman. Needless to say it was a long time before we made it home.

Oh how I loved my family.

**A/N:** THE END. Thanks so much for sticking with me folks, I know this was a long and overly emotional fic! Hoped you enjoyed it! Working on an Alice fic now called _Past and Present, _so stay tuned. PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE REVIEW!


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